#vision hunt ceremony | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bucketsofmonsters · 10 months

Text

On The Altar

cw: kidnapping, size difference, attempted human sacrifice, indoctrination, culty vibes, blood, hunting animals for food, self-loathing, allusions to drowning, heights, non-human genitalia, voyeurism, oral sex, threesome, unprotected sex, everyone in this is having a rough time

male dragon x male knight x fem reader

word count: 12k

Your breath caught as you stared at yourself in the mirror and a sort of disappointment washed over you. The white ceremonial dress draped across your form, fitted perfectly to you.

You were supposed to look better than you ever had. Your heart sank a little when realized you didn’t think you did.

Your birthday a few months ago. You thought you looked better then.

You should have toned it down, not given yourself such a high bar to clear. It was your own fault, really.

It had just been your last one. You'd wanted to make it count

Your head felt heavy with the ceremonial braids in your hair and the golden crown atop your head. It matched the rest of your accessories. Golden bracelets and necklaces and cuffs that circled your biceps.

You wondered if it was real gold. Of course, everyone said it was but it seemed like a difficult thing to manage, a whole set of new golden adornments made every year just for it to be lost. A Sisyphean task.

You didn’t have to worry about that. Your responsibility was far from that of the clothing and jewelry makers. You didn’t have to do any work at all, a crowd of women ensuring you didn’t so much as lift a finger on your day, bathing you and dressing you in unfamiliar clothes.

You’d spent the whole day preparing. This was the first time you’d had a chance to breathe.

Excitement and nerves all swelled inside of you, neither able to snuff the other out.

Time was flying by and you weren’t sure whether you wanted it to slow or speed up. Part of you wanted to cherish these last few moments but it was almost here. It was almost your time.

They tied you up. Not that they had to. You weren’t going anywhere. It was just tradition.

You forgot to treasure your last moments of sight before someone behind you pulled a blindfold over your eyes.

All you were left to do was imagine it. Being pulled from where you stood on the shore, being dragged under the water, the air leaving you as you fulfilled your duty.

And the town saved.

They’d do it again next year and again the next, just like they had for decades. But this year was yours. You would save them.

What a privilege it was to die for them.

You wondered if the ropes ruined the lines of your dress. You supposed you’d never find out.

Something hooked around your shoulders and you couldn’t help but flinch. You took in a big gulp of air instinctually, knowing what was coming.

You braced yourself to be dragged forwards and instead slipped backward as you were lifted in the wrong direction. The ground disappeared from under you before you could fall.

Your legs kicked, searching for anything below you, but you found nothing. The wind rushed up around you and despite your lack of vision, you could feel that you were rising up and up and up.

You were meant to be dragged down to the depths and yet here you were, being hoisted into the sky. Claws dug into your skin and you were still blind and disoriented. Fear overtook you.

You reached up and felt at whatever was carrying you, finding scaly skin connected to the strong talons digging into your shoulders.

And then, as quickly as you’d been scooped up, you were being dropped. Rocks scraped your skin as you tumbled onto a hard stone floor. The bindings had come undone during the fall and you scrambled for your blindfold, squinting when the harsh light reached your eyes.

As your vision began to adjust, you saw an enormous figure in front of you. At first, all you could see was a silhouette. Massive wings curled into the figure and the dragon that was slowly coming into focus in front of you stared right back at you.

It was retreating into mounds of shiny things, gold and silver, old pieces of armour and crowns and candelabras piled into the cave you’d been thrown into.

It stood out amongst the collection, a hulking creature with scales that shone a dark bronze that matched little of his horde. It was probably 20 feet long, its head cocked to the side as it watched you.

Your instincts screamed at you to run, to get as far away from the creature as possible.

You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. If you tried to run it could just scoop you up again. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was activate a hunting instinct. Maybe right now, covered in gold jewelry, he saw you as something for his horde. It was certainly preferable to the alternative.

He didn’t seem to be eating you, which you took as a good sign. Maybe if you removed the gold from yourself, it would lose interest in you and you could sneak out. If you rushed and were lucky, maybe you could even make it back in time. A sacrifice without the ceremonial adornments wasn’t ideal but it would certainly be better than nothing.

You slowly lifted your hand to the golden cuff on your bicep, praying it wouldn’t think you were trying to take it. You tried to rip it from the white fabric of your dress, wanting to return home with at least some of your dignity, and your clothes, intact.

Its head tilted further to the side and then a voice sounded, echoing off the walls. “What are you doing? Why would you ruin such a lovely dress?”

You froze at the noise, looking up wide-eyed at the creature. It couldn’t have. That wasn’t possible. Dragons were forces of chaos. Mindless beasts, nothing more.

You blinked slowly, wondering if maybe you hadn’t woken up this morning quite yet. Or perhaps you’d been pulled underwater too quickly to notice and this was the oxygen deprivation messing with your mind.

“Hello,” you responded.

Its jaw opened to reveal layers of teeth in a ghoulish imitation of a smile. “Hello!”

You felt your heart stutter in your chest. “What… why did you take me?” You tried your best to keep your voice steady. The last thing you wanted was to upset the creature.

“You were out there to be taken, yes?”

Oh. You supposed you were. Perhaps you’d been sending mixed messages to the monsters of the world.

You wondered if maybe some town made sacrifices just like you to dragons.

“I was,” you said cautiously. “But not for you. For the creatures of the deep. Fishing is our life, it’s how we survive. We need the waters to be safe.”

“Not… what? You’re… but I thought. So you weren’t out there for me?” He sounded heartbroken.

“It’s fine,” you said, keeping your voice level. “Misunderstandings happen. Just take me back and everything will be fine.”

“No, it doesn’t make sense. You’re covered in gold. You can’t just cover someone in gold and not expect a dragon to come snatch them up. You must have known. You must be for me.”

“Well, I’m not. And I would love to go home now.”

“What do they even want with you?” it asked, avoiding any discussion of bringing you back. “I don’t know much about humans but I know you aren’t water creatures. They couldn’t even take you anywhere, they’d have to come all the way up to visit you every day.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?”

You’d assumed he’d taken you for the same reasons as the creatures you sacrificed maidens to every year. To take and consume, to feel worshiped. But it sounded like this dragon had entirely different ideas as to why a monster would want a sacrifice.

“I wouldn’t have to just visit you,” he said. “I could be with you all the time. Take good care of you. No water involved. I’d keep you warm and fed and completely dry.”

“I’m not given to be a pet,” you snapped.

The creature reeled back and began backpedaling instantly. “I didn’t mean you’re like a pet, I just meant…”

“They were going to kill me,” you said. “I’m a sacrifice. They need to kill me. It’s the only way.”

It took him a minute to understand what you could possibly mean by that. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to understand.

You didn’t have time for this. “Just take me back,” you pleaded with him.

He paused. “They’re going to kill you?”

“It’s none of your concern what they’re going to do.”

He dropped his head low, resting it on his tail with a huff. “Then I’m not taking you anywhere.”

Your heart sank. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I can’t let them hurt you.”

You let out an exasperated groan, burying your head in your hands. “It has to happen, without it so many more will perish.

“What if I start terrorizing your village!” the dragon said, with the intonation of someone who’d just had a great idea but none of the content. “Or say I would if I didn’t have you. Then your sacrifice won’t have been for nothing.”

Reasoning with him was starting to seem pointless. “Please don’t.”

“Well, either way, I’m not letting you go back. If I let you go, it would be like I hurt you. No, you can stay here.”

You could not do this, couldn’t argue with this strange creature who was incapable of understanding how vital it was that you returned so your town had its proper sacrifice.

You stormed over to the corner of the cave, leaning against the cold stone wall with a huff.

He just stared at you, neverendingly, undeterred by your attitude.

“It can’t be comfortable over there,” he called out to you.

“Leave me alone!” you shouted back, curling in further on yourself.

He wanted to approach you, you could tell that much. His hesitation was evident and he took small steps forwards before pulling himself back, repeating the gesture over and over until he seemed to come to a conclusion.

“Alright. I can go for a while. Don’t hurt yourself.”

With that, he gave you a final once-over and flew out of the cave.

He was hard to read. The way a dragon worked was unfamiliar to you. The most you could do was take guesses and try your best. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be around long enough to figure out the intricacies of dragon body language.

You should run. If you were going to have a chance to escape, this would be it.

As you edged out of the cave, your dreams of making it down the mountain were crushed. There was, technically, a sort of path down the mountain. It was barely a few feet wide with a sheer cliff at the edge of it.

You hadn’t eaten since this morning. You were scared and exhausted and there was a slight tremor in your hands you couldn’t quite seem to rid yourself of. There was no way you could safely traverse that path.

You went back into the cave with a huff, waiting for your captor to return.

Eventually, he did, blood dripping down his face as he dropped an animal in front of you. It was hard to tell what it was with the way it was mangled. It was clearly a fresh kill.

You stared blankly at him, edging further away and into the cave wall.

At your lack of reaction, he nudged the creature towards you. “You should eat,” he said.

“I can’t eat that.”

You prayed he wouldn’t try and force you.

“Why don’t you just eat me?” you spat at him. “At least it would be better than this.”

At least then you wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that you’d failed, and your village would pay the price.

He tilted his head once more. “Why would I do that? I’ve wanted to meet a human for a very very long time. I’ve got another friend too, come look.”

He started to wander back into the cave, behind piles of gold and you hesitantly followed him on shaky legs.

When you reached the back of the dark cave, you found a single, frightened sheep sitting atop a massive patch of grass that seemed to have been uprooted from the ground.

“I took him from a field. I couldn’t eat him, he had sad eyes.”

“Do I have sad eyes?” you asked. Maybe that was why he insisted on keeping you, refusing to let you go back home.

He looked at you and as hard as it was to read the facial expressions of a dragon, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Is it that bad?” you asked as you looked away.

“Not bad. You just look like you're hurting.”

If you were it was because of him. This was supposed to be the best day of your life, the only day that mattered. And instead, you were here, looking at a poor terrorized sheep who was in the same position you were in.

“So, what can you eat?” the dragon asked. Before you could give an answer, it said, “Nevermind, I’ve got an idea.”

You didn’t get the chance to ask him what it was. He was off again, moving through the cave until you heard the telltale flapping noise that meant you were alone once more.

You looked down at the sheep again.

Maybe not entirely alone.

He returned swiftly with a whole market cart in tow. It had piles of bread in it, although they were a little worse for wear from the flight. You had no doubt that some unsuspecting farmers had found it raining loaves of bread as he made his way back.

You were too hungry to worry about scolding him for the thievery. You grabbed the first piece you could get your hands on and took the biggest bite you were capable of.

Your dragon watched, seemingly entranced by the sight.

As you chewed your first bite of freshly baked bread he asked, “I did alright this time?”

You nodded, unable to speak through the mouthful of food.

As you finished scarfing down your bread, you sat in the grass with your new sheep companion and asked your captor, “Do you have a name?”

The dragon considered this for a moment. “No. No one has ever needed to call me anything.”

“Oh. I thought dragons would have names.”

“They do. Just not me.”

You looked up at him, brow furrowed. “What, just you?”

He hummed in acknowledgment, the vibrations from the noise cascading through the stone under you. “Didn’t bother to give me one. I was the runt so you know how it is. Or maybe you don’t. I don’t really know how people work. With dragons, the littlest one always has to go. That’s the way it is.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I get a little lonely but now you’re here!”

You rolled your eyes, collapsing back into the grass. If you closed your eyes you could pretend you were outside your village lying in a field instead of trapped in a dark cave on a cold mountain. “Yeah, now I’m here.”

The moment couldn’t last. It was too cold, there was no wind. The air smelled different.

“You know,” you said. “We had stories about dragons. Big terrifying ones that wanted to hurt people. My mother used to tell me stories of Pytho. I was so scared of him when I was little.”

“Oh.” You heard his wings rustle and opened one of your eyes to peek over at him, shuffling uncomfortably in place.

“I could call you Pytho,” you added. “It’s the only dragon name I know.”

“If you think it fits, I suppose. I thought you said he was big and scary?”

You laughed. “Well, from my perspective, you’re pretty big and scary.”

Instead of being pleased at your words, he reeled back. “Are you scared of me?”

You shrugged. “I was. Not so much anymore. Honestly, I think on any other day, I would’ve liked you”

“But not today?”

You shook your head. “Not today.”

“Well then,” he said as he began to curl up into a ball, “Maybe tomorrow.”

You backed up, leaning against the cold wall, and tried to suppress your tears at the thought that there would be a tomorrow for you at all.

When you woke up, it was all still real. A dragon snored beside you as a sheep stared at you with the saddest gaze you’d ever seen.

Maybe, as you looked at it, it thought the same thing about you.

Pytho stirred from his slumber, immediately turning to check on you.

When you felt his warm breath directed at you, you realized just how cold you were. Not that you were going to do anything about it. Your only source of warmth was the dragon in front of you and you were going to go nowhere near him.

You clench your fists, doing your best to stop the shivering.

He didn’t seem to notice. With the warmth that he radiated, you were sure that the concept of being cold was something that was foreign to him.

You turned away from the creature. If he wouldn’t take you back, the least you could do was deprive him of your attention.

It wasn’t much but it was all you had.

The day passed slowly but still, it passed. You spent it wallowing in the corner.

Pytho left you alone after the first few outbursts. He seemed to understand that you needed your space. You could appreciate him for at least that much.

As the sun began to set once more, you began to realize just how much warmth and light the day had brought to this miserable cave.

You curled in on yourself, not far from how Pytho slept.

You watched him begin to settle in for the night and saw a moment of hope where he tried to move closer to you. You glared at him and he stopped in his tracks.

“You’re still upset with me,” he noted.

“Of course I am. There’s nothing for me now. It was supposed to be over and now it’s not. You took that from me.”

“I took your ending,” he said, and you knew he understood.

“You did.”

“You’ll find a new ending someday.”

“But that one was mine. It mattered,” you said, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get it.

“You matter.”

You scoffed. “I did.”

“You do.”

You turned away from him with a huff. “You don’t understand. You can’t.”

“Goodnight, little human.”

You fell into a fitful sleep against the cold stone of the cave. When you woke, however, you felt warm and safe.

You opened your eyes to find Pytho standing over you, his body heat covering you in waves of warmth, even when he wasn’t touching you.

“You were shivering,” he said, like it was that simple. You were cold, he was warm. There wasn’t anything else to be done. You hadn’t even known he understood what shivering was.

You slid away from him, back into the cold.

He watched you. That’s all he ever seemed to do. Watch you. “You’re mad at me but you’re punishing yourself.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response. “Let me go back.”

“I will not.”

You tried to sleep again but the cold felt harsher now, crueler. It was your turn to watch him, remember the waves of heat across your skin.

You waited until his breathing leveled out, the rise and fall of his chest becoming uniform. You couldn’t handle a smug look or excitement. You just needed to sleep.

You took the few steps between you slowly and gently leaned against his side.

Almost instantly, without thinking, he curled around you, bundling you up in a nest of warm scales. His breathing was steady against your side.

You’d never slept better.

You woke to find his head a few inches from yours, propped up on his tail and staring at you with a soft gaze.

“Good morning,” he said.

You gave him a hum of acknowledgment back.

You were wracked with guilt. How could you be enjoying this, allowing yourself even these minor comforts? It wasn’t right. None of this was right.

You pulled away from him, feeling sick.

Traitor. You’d betrayed them after they’d put so much trust in you. Who knew what was happening to them now, while you slept feeling warm and comfortable.

“You still want to go?” he asked in hushed tones as you backed away, clearly afraid of the answer.

You nodded. “I’m always going to want to go. I have to make this right.”

He let out a pained whine and moved towards you slowly, giving you the chance to stop him.

You didn’t.

“You could be happy here,” he insisted. “Why won’t you just be happy here?”

“It just wasn’t meant to be."

“Don’t want you to get hurt,” he whined out.

You pressed your forehead to his. “Does it not matter what I want?”

He let out a huff and hot air cascaded over your face. He was always so warm.

You pressed a kiss to his scaly nose. “I know you want to help, but I have to do this. Please let me do this.”

And he stared. Just stared at you, like he was drinking it in, trying to memorize you.

Finally, his face fell and you knew exactly what it meant.

“If you change your mind…” he said. “If you ever get the chance, come back to me. You’ll always have a safe place here.”

You nodded, still holding his head in your hands. You knew you never would, but it was nice to imagine returning someday.

You looked down at your dress, dirty and torn, and you finished ripping off the golden cuff you’d started to tear days ago.

“You can have this if you want. For what could have been.”

His eyes were glassy. You didn’t know dragons could cry. He grasped the golden cuff in his talons, tucking it away far from the rest of the gold, instead next to his beloved sheep. “For what could have been.”

A forlorn laugh escaped you as you looked at him. All three of you had sad eyes now.

Before either of you had the chance to rethink it, he moved towards the mouth of the cave and you followed.

Familiar talons grasped your shoulders and you were off again.

This time, there was no blindfold. An entire landscape unfolded below you and you watched towns and rivers and forests pass you by at incredible speeds.

Your hands reached up to grab Pytho’s legs, the seer distance to the ground making you dizzy.

The flight was shorter than you remembered. You wished it wasn’t but as your feet touched grass, real grass rooted in the real ground, you knew there was nothing to be done.

He dropped you off near the village but still outside of it. It was for the best, you couldn’t imagine anyone inside the town would be particularly pleased to see him. Worst case scenario, they might even try and hurt him.

As soon as you’d properly landed he flew off, leaving you behind. No parting words, no last look. Before you knew it he was gone, a distant silhouette on a blue sky.

Good. You didn’t want him to see what might happen here anyways.

The walk back was too quiet. You could hear the birds and the wind but none of it was enough to drown out the blood rushing in your ears.

You didn’t know why your heart was pounding so loudly. This was what you wanted. You were back, ready to repent for the crime of being stolen.

The first person who saw you was a boy. He couldn’t have been more than ten. He wandered on the outskirts of the village but as soon as he saw you he turned and ran back into the town, probably telling tales of your miraculous homecoming.

You’d been so caught up in your return you had managed to think of little else but now, as you neared society once more, you realized what a mess you’d become. Your sacrificial dress was brown with now much dirt it had collected, ripped and shredded and hanging off of you in tatters. You were sure your face and hair were just as dirty.

You walked further and further into town, unsure of what to do with yourself. You’d assumed someone else would tell you what to do but instead, they grouped together and stared, whispering and pointing as you trudged your way through the village.

As you reached the center of town, you found a gathering waiting for you.

You stopped in front of them, waiting as they inspected you. The same people who’d helped ready you and told you how vital you were to the town now looked down at you with thinly veiled disdain plastered across their faces.

“I came back as soon as I could,” you said, your voice sounding small and weak.

The man at the front of the group, the one who chose the sacrifices, made speeches about its vitalness every year, spoke. His voice boomed across the gathering. It didn’t feel fair. He was accustomed to speaking to crowds like this. You weren’t meant for this, of course you sounded small. “We chose another,” he said, and his words echoed in your ears.

Your heart sank in your chest. Of course they did. What else would they have done? At least it meant the town was safe. So why did it sting so badly?

“I can do it next year,” you said. “Please, let me do it next year. I’m here now.”

The man turned up his nose at you. “You abandoned your post.”

You could feel yourself getting more and more frantic as he spoke. “No, I was taken. I came back as soon as I could, I promise! Please.”

“An example must be made.”

You nodded, searching for a way out, any way you could still be useful. “Anything. I’ll do anything.”

The women who’d helped you bathe and get dressed a few days prior surged forwards, grasping at your arms. They held you in place as you refused to struggle.

“This is what happens to deserters,” he called out over the crowd.

You could barely think, barely hear his words.

The fact that you’d been replaced kept running through your mind. You’d been raised for this. It was all you’d ever wanted. You’d dreamed of it.

You weren’t so sure you wanted it anymore.

It didn’t matter anyways. It was too late. You’d left.

The man chanting to the crowd pulled out a knife.

It felt like what you deserved. Your chest tightened with guilt and fear. Now it wouldn’t even be for anything. Just an example, nothing more.

Maybe it was saving them, in a way. Saving them from an epidemic of girls who thought they could escape it and damn the town in the meantime. Maybe you still could die for something.

A thudding sound echoes in your ears, slightly out of time with your heartbeat. It felt almost grounding, helped you ignore the chants of deserter and heathen. You didn’t have the strength to try and defend yourself, to insist that no, you’d fought to come back. You weren’t even sure you believed that anymore. You latched onto the thudding, anything to get those words out of your head.

And then the arms that had held you down were being ripped away and instead you found yourself being lifted. This was not the endless upwards motion of your dragon. Instead, you found yourself hoisted onto the back of a horse.

Hard metal dug into your side and you looked up to see a knight in full armour, his face hidden by his helm and his arm hooked around your waist.

You pounded your fists against him, fighting to be let go. “No!” you shouted. “I need to do this. I need to be forgiven.”

The knight's grip on you tightened and the horse you were both on sped up. Neither seemed to find your fighting anything more than mildly inconvenient.

Before long, your struggle slowed. You were becoming very used to the intense frustration that accompanied being trapped, being taken away with no regard for what you wanted.

You lost track of time as you rode. You’d just been trying to make things right, even if you couldn’t do what you were meant to do. The universe seemed intent on stopping you.

Maybe you’d done something wrong, offended the cosmos so severely you were no longer permitted to do what you were meant for.

As the horse slowed, the knight's grip on you loosened.

He set you gently on the ground in the midst of this unfamiliar forest and you glared up at him.

“Can I go now?” you hissed. “Or am I still being kidnapped?”

“There were going to kill you,” he said as he dismounted his horse.

“You don’t know what was going on,” you insisted. “Maybe I deserved it.”

He rummaged around in his saddlebag. “Maybe.”

You reeled back a little, not expecting him to agree with you. “Oh. Can I go back then?”

“No. Here, eat this.” He held out some dried meat in your direction.

You refused it. It would be a waste anyways.

“Why can’t I go?” you asked. If he didn’t even know if you were in the right, what reason could he possibly have for taking you?

“I’ve heard about your village, you know. I was worried I was too late. They’ve messed with your mind. It’s not your fault but you’re not making good choices right now.”

“My choices are fine,” you shouted. “Who are you to decide that? You don’t even know what I did.”

“What did you do?”

“I shirked my duty. I should have been there.”

“For what?”

“To be their sacrifice.”

“You didn’t deserve that.”

You did, but he couldn’t know that. It was beyond him.

It was hard to remember where you were. It didn’t make sense. Why weren’t you home? Or were you? You knew that you should be. Why wouldn’t you be?

You saw your dress, dirty and crumpled and ripped. You’d ruined it. How would you go through with the ritual now?

Something in you always knew you’d ruin it somehow. And now things were all wrong. Who else’s fault could it be?

The knight pushed some food at you and once again you were in a forest far from home.

You threw it back at him. “I said I don’t want it. Aren’t you going to eat?”

That damn helmet stared back at you for a moment before he said, “Maybe later.”

“Do you have a name?” you asked, desperate to get anything from him.

“Phillip.”

You missed your dragon. At least you could see his face and try to figure out what he was thinking.

He got up without warning, and you jumped a little at the sudden movement.

He froze for a second as you did, staring down at you before continuing on, trudging through the nearby bushes.

He returned in a few moments.

“There’s a pond back there,” he said, gesturing towards the foliage. “It’s not too cold, you should be fine.” He started to move back towards his horse before pausing for a moment and adding, “It might make you feel better.”

You went to inspect this pond as he tended to his horse.

It was a small pond, the trees around it curling over the top of it, mostly blocking out the sun. You dipped your foot into the water and found that the knight was technically right, it wasn’t cold enough to hurt you. It still wasn’t a pleasant temperature but right now it was the best you were going to get.

As you tested out the water, you watched from behind the bushes as he mounted his horse and started to ride away.

It made sense. You wouldn’t want to keep you around either. At this point, you were just ungrateful dead weight.

You considered taking off your dress and attempting to keep it dry but at this point, it consisted more of rips and dirt than anything. Dousing it in water might do it some good.

You sunk into the cold water, doing your best to get the dirt out of your hair. As long as you were in here, you might as well attempt to get clean.

You wondered if you could find your way back to Pytho’s cave. If you could manage to get close you were sure he’d be able to find you. At least you hoped he would. It was the only place you had left to go.

You had no real desire to prolong the bath in the cold water. You just didn’t know what came next. After this, where could you even go?

Your fingers began to prune and you know you couldn’t do this forever.

As you exited the pool in your sopping wet, muddy, ripped ceremonial dress, you decided you needed to go. You weren’t sure if you were trying to find your village or Pytho but it didn’t really matter, you had no sense of what direction either was in. You just needed to be headed somewhere.

You made it half a dozen steps before you collapsed.

You didn’t even notice he’d returned until he was right in front of you, staring down at you collapsed in the dirt in your soaking-wet dress.

You watched his helmet as he looks you up and down, lingering a second too long on your chest before snapping his head back up towards your face.

He cleared his throat and you would have bet money that his face was bright red beneath his helm.

“Apologies, my lady. I thought you might want some fresh clothes.”

He held out some folded clothes with a pair of leather boots balanced atop them.

No. It wasn’t right. This was supposed to be the last outfit you ever wore. It felt like a betrayal to take it off.

“No thank you,” you said from your spot on the ground. “I’ll stick with what I have.”

“I know they’re not much but they’ll fit.”

You shook your head again.

You heard a quiet, muffled sigh escape him. “The sun is setting, you’ll freeze to death if you wear those. You can change back in the morning if you really want to.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Promise?”

He nodded. “Promise.”

You took the clothes with a sigh. “Fine. Turn around.”

You’d never seen him move so fast. It was like he was afraid you’d start stripping the second you decided to change.

A giggle escaped you and you watched his shoulders tense up at the noise. It seemed like the two of you were having entirely different kinds of crises.

You got dressed as quickly as you could, a chill starting to set deep in your bones. He’d found you a faded red tunic that hung midway down your thighs and some pants that miraculously fit pretty well.

The boots had thick woolen socks inside and putting them on felt like heaven. You swore you’d never wear pretty shoes again as long as these were an option.

You didn’t bother telling Phillip he could turn around. He’d figure it out in his own time. Or he wouldn’t. It wasn’t really your problem.

As you got ready to sleep, you watched him, keeping track of time as best you could. It took him about twenty minutes before he finally peeked over his shoulder, finding you sitting with your back against a tree.

You gave him a halfhearted smile and he cleared his throat. “You should rest now,” he said. “We have to leave at dawn.”

“And when are you going to stop dragging me around with you?”

“Whenever you’d like. I can drop you off at a town tomorrow. I just have something I need to attend to first”

You knew by now not to get hopeful. “Can you drop me off at my town?” You kept asking but you didn’t know what the point of it was. There was nothing for you there anymore. The most you could do was repent. Pay for what you’d done. But for what?

“I can drop you off at any other town.”

You slid down the tree, basically lying on the ground. “Alright.

He spent the rest of the night in full armour and you wondered if maybe part of him thought you might attack him. Either that or these woods were more dangerous than you knew.

He awoke you the second the sun began to peek over the horizon and you groaned, trying to kick him away from you.

He would not be deterred, coaxing you up and onto the back of his horse. You got on behind him and wrapped your arms around him for stability with minimal protest. You didn’t have the energy to fight him on it.

It took you too long to realize you'd left your dress behind, discarded in the mud.

The ride was much more comfortable when you weren’t being held captive.

Forests and plains and mountains passed, all foreign and strange. You’d never left your town before, never seen anything like this. Even in your bad mood, it was hard not to admire it.

Your heart stopped as you noticed one of the mountains that the two of you were fast approaching seemed familiar.

It had taken you too long to recognize it but in your defense, you were used to seeing it from a cave right at the peak.

You shut your eyes and prayed to anyone that might be listening that you’d ride right by it.

If the gods were listening, they had a special hatred for you. You weren’t sure you could blame them.

Phillip lead the horse along the precarious path you’d deemed too dangerous only days ago.

You needed to figure out a plan but you had nothing.

With only a few minutes left before you reached the peak, Phillip dismounted, holding out his hand to help you down. You half considered trying to take his horse to go warn Pytho but you had no real idea how to ride one on your own and you couldn’t shake the feeling you’d ride the pair of you right off the cliff edge. The poor creature didn’t deserve that.

You dismounted and Phillip nodded, getting right back on the horse. “You stay here, I won’t be long.”

“No,” you yelled, a little louder than was necessary. Phillip flinched, probably worried it had echoed up the mountain and warned the dragon at the top of his presence. You hoped it had. “I want to come.”

“These are dangerous lands, m’lady. I will not let you get hurt.”

You scowled at him. “You know, people won’t stop saying that to me.”

The helm stared down at you, unwavering, before he gave his horse a swift kick in the side and it rode up the narrow path.

You took off in a dead sprint after him.

You neared the top of the path, panting, just in time to see Phillip creeping into the cave, sword drawn and at the ready.

You had no idea what to do. You couldn’t just stand here and do nothing but you felt frozen in place.

The problem was, you’d rather neither of them were hurt. It felt like an impossible situation.

Pytho needed to be warned but as gentle as he’d been with you, he could decimate Phillip in a second. That much you were certain of, no matter how competent of a knight Phillip might be.

You finally willed yourself to move, darting into the cave to see Pytho standing over Phillip, who had his sword positioned right at the dragon’s neck.

Before you could even think, you shouted, “Don’t hurt him!”

You had no real idea which of them you were talking to but both stopped in their tracks, heads spinning towards you.

For one moment you were terrified one would take advantage of the distraction to harm the other and then their blood would be on your hands. Before the worry had time to settle, Pytho swung his tail around, hitting Phillip over the head with it.

He instantly collapsed to the ground, going limp.

You rummaged around in the saddlebag as Pytho stared at you. When you finally found rope you raised it triumphantly.

Pytho’s gaze followed it up. “What is that?” he asked as you rushed towards the knight.

“It’s rope,” you informed him as you tried and failed to drag him across the floor. As soon as Pytho realized what you were doing, he swept him effortlessly into the corner for you.

You bound his hands behind his back, tethering him to some heavy golden chair that would at least slow any escape he tried to make.

“You’re back,” Pytho said behind you, his voice airy and incredulous and so very grateful.

You turned from binding the knight with a big smile. “I am. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it back but this guy led me right here,” he said, nudging at him with your foot.

He didn’t seem to hear any of it. “I can’t believe you’re back.” His eyes were wide, refusing to leave you.

You nodded, grabbing Phillip’s abandoned sword and throwing it right off the mountain, listening to the clanging noises as it bounced all the way down. You glanced nervously at Phillip as you returned, leading his horse over by the sheep. “I am. This is so rude but can you please go for a couple minutes? If you’re still here when he wakes I’m afraid he might perish from fright.”

He nodded. “If that’s what you want. I will be back.”

He bumped his head lightly into you before heading out, flying off somewhere.

And not a moment too soon.

The knight stirred from his slumber. The only way you could tell was by how his helm slowly moved up, rising to meet your gaze.

The second he did he tried to move before realizing he was bound. “Why?” he asked you. ��I don’t understand, you… Was this all a trap?” His voice cracked and he sounded genuinely hurt by the betrayal.

You felt a pang of sympathy in your chest as he struggled against his bindings. Quiet fearful noises escaped him as he glanced between you and Pytho’s horde.

You shushed him, your hands up in a quiet surrender. “We’re not going to hurt you. You’ll be just fine.”

“We? You’re in cahoots with this monster?”

You bristled at the harsh langue but did your best to be forgiving to the frightened man.

“He’s not a monster. He helped me. Why are you even here? He hasn’t hurt anyone.”

“That’s not what I heard. From what I’ve heard he’s been snatching up women.”

You groaned, rubbing at your temples. As you did, the knight leaned forward as much as he could and even through the stoic armour, you could tell exactly when he realized.

“No. But… but you….”

“I just wanted to help my people. I don’t know why every creature within a thousand miles is trying to stop me.”

“If he took you, how did you escape?”

“I didn’t. I asked him to let me go, to be able to make my own choices, and he did. Because he respects me and didn’t kidnap me on the back of a horse!” You tactfully decided to omit the original kidnapping. At least for now. You had a feeling it wouldn’t help your case.

“Please, it’s a dragon, it…”

“He! He’s a dragon! And at least he’s allowed me to make decisions.”

He reeled back. “I… you were going to get yourself killed. I couldn’t just let you get yourself killed. It isn’t right.”

“And it’s not your choice to make.”

He hung his head, helmet clanging against his chest plate.

Pytho chose then to return, his tail swishing happily as he walked. He rubbed up against your side, letting out a happy rumble as he did.

“So they let you go?” Pytho asked, ignoring the man on the floor.

“Not exactly. They were going to kill me. They wanted to make an example of me.” You couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t imagine that the example they wanted to set was getting rescued by a knight but I suppose that’s the hand they were dealt.

Pytho turned his gaze to Phillip. “You saved her?”

He nodded hesitantly.

Another pleased noise escaped Pytho. “He’s a good one. I’m glad you didn’t let me kill him.”

“About that,” you said and you watched Phillip freeze up, all of his limbs locking. You glanced at him, adding, “I said we weren’t going to hurt you, calm down. I was just going to say, Pytho, you should let him go.”

The dragon tilted his head. “Why? I like him, he’s shiny.”

You suppressed a laugh. “He’s not shiny, his armour is. It’s like clothing.”

“Oh. Why do you creatures insist on that stuff? Seems awfully restrictive.”

Phillip cut into your conversation, saying, “I can’t leave.”

You looked over at him, a wave of irritation rushing through you. “Why not?”

“I can’t leave you here with this beast.”

You had half a mind to throw something at him. “Get this through your head, I don’t need you to save me.”

“It wouldn’t be right,” he continued, undeterred.

“Fine. But I’m not untying you and risking you hurting him.”

“Fine.”

Pytho’s head swiveled between the two of you as you bickered. As the argument finally finished, he asked in a hushed tone, although still lough enough that Phillip could hear, “Does that mean we get to keep him.”

You snorted. “Guess so. It’s your lucky day.”

“It really is,” he said, voice as genuine as it could be.

The sunlight was fast fading and you knew how cold it could get in here. You had no intention of sleeping alone but you glanced at your mostly willing captive.

“Pytho?” you called out.

He turned to you immediately. “Yes? Do you need something?”

“Could you go get some wood?”

“Of course I can,” he said, already speeding off.

When he returned, he had a whole tree in his mouth and another in his talons, dirt still clinging to their roots.

You bent over laughing as he dropped them both in front of you, tail swishing behind him. They’d barely fit through the mouth of the cave, filling up a significant amount of the room and knocking over at least one pile of gold in the meantime.

You got to work snapping off some of the more reasonably sized branches, having Pytho move the trees back outside as you finished.

You set them up a few feet away from Phillip, far enough away that he’d be safe but could still feel the warmth.

“You can breathe fire right?” you called back to Pytho. It would be unfortunate if he couldn’t because you did not have the proper tools to start one here.

He nodded, visibly eager. “Do you need one?”

“Just on the sticks here. Make sure not to burn anyone,” you said, nearing Phillip to ensure that he didn’t forget there was a person inside of the shiny armour and cook him.

With a quick and surprisingly controlled burst of flame, the pile of sticks turned into a quaint little fire.

You gave Phillip a pat on the shoulder as you headed over to Pytho. “Goodnight. Have fun sleeping in full armour.”

He didn’t respond.

You left the fire behind to go curl up with Pytho. No fire could compare to his warm scales, of that you were certain.

A happy rumble escaped him and ran through you as you leaned against him.

He spoke in hushed tones, face right in front of yours as his tail curled around you. “I can’t believe you came back.”

“I shouldn’t have,” you said, giving him a quick kiss on his snout. “But I think I realized I didn’t really want to be anywhere else.”

His head leaned into your touch immediately, a wistful look in his eyes.

“I wish I could do that.”

“What, kiss me?” you asked with a laugh. “Well, how do dragons kiss?”

Without another word he licked a long stripe up the side of your face, leaving a sticky residue behind.

You giggled as you felt his spit on your cheek. “Well, my way is definitely less messy.”

He let out a noise that sounded almost like a purr, resting his head in your lap. “I like it your way.”

You hummed quietly and you wished he could feel it reverberating through his body the way you did for him. You curled happily into warm scales, surrounded by an overwhelming sense of safety, and fell asleep in your new home.

The next morning, you realized you had no idea how to tell if Phillip was awake or not. He could have escaped and left only his empty armour behind and it would be impossible to tell.

What you did know was that he hadn’t eaten.

Pytho still had some slightly stale bread from your last stay here and you’d brought in all of Phillip’s supplies. You grabbed some dried meat and the freshest of the bread that you could find, heading over to him.

“Good morning,” you said, hoping he could hear you.

He shifted, just barely, to turn to you. It seemed like the most positive reaction you could hope for.

“Okay, you need to eat. Here, just let me.” You went to lift his helm but paused as he flinched away from your hand.

“Please don’t.” His voice was low and shaky.

You backed off, keeping your hands up and away from him. “Okay,” you said, “But you do need to eat.”

There wasn’t any other way to do it. You reached behind him, pressed close to him as you untied his hands. As you struggled with the knots, you felt his breath hitch in his chest.

After a few moments, you pulled away from the newly freed knight, rope in hand. “Tada.”

He froze once more, something you were getting used to, and just stared down at the rope for a minute, flexing his hands by his sides.

With no warning, he grabbed the food you’d gathered for him and stood on shaky legs, giving you a small nod before he headed out toward the mouth of the cave. It was near where the animals were being kept, tied up to some golden pillar near the front. If he wanted to, he could leave here and now.

You waited patiently for him, avoiding looking in his direction, even if you were sure he’d gone far enough that you wouldn’t be able to see him.

He quickly returned, fast enough that he must have scarfed down his food.

He presented his hands to you and it took a second to realize he was waiting to be tied up again.

You scoffed, looking at him dubiously. “Is that really necessary?” It seemed silly to tie him up again after that.

His hands stayed out and you rolled your eyes as you grabbed the rope.

You tied them in front of him this time, taking much less care with the knots as you did.

“Where are you a knight of?” you asked as you pulled the knot taut. “I see no insignias anywhere on you. That doesn’t seem normal.”

“My kingdom is long gone, m’lady.”

“Still so respectful, even after everything I’ve put you through. Well, sir knight, how can you be a knight with no kingdom to serve?”

His head cocked to the side as if baffled by the question. “I know nothing else.”

You paused a moment before asking. “How long have you been doing this?”

He remained ever impossible to read, although that never stopped you from trying. After a long, stoic pause, he simply shrugged and said, “I’ve lost track of the years.”

“And so what? No kingdom to speak of, you just keep fighting?”

“I do what I’ve always done.” Like it was as simple as that.

“Don’t you get tired?”

“I never have the time.”

“Well, sir knight, I think you were just about due for some rest anyways.”

He didn’t respond, the helmet following you as you left him.

He was so stoic. You weren’t sure how it was easier to get a read on a dragon than a man but somehow he’d managed it.

Anything other than silent staring began to feel out of place.

“M’lady,” Phillip called out. You turned, confused. It wasn’t like him to start a conversation.

“Yeah?”

“Where is my sword?” he asked.

You’d forgotten he was unconscious for that. “Oh. I threw it off the mountain.”

“You what? Why?”

Pytho chimed in immediately. “I can get it.”

You shifted between him and the entrance to the cave as quickly as you could. “No, you will not.”

“Why?” asked Phillip.

“What do you mean why? You tried to kill him.”

“I won’t attack him unprovoked.”

“You already did attack him unprovoked.”

“I didn’t have all the information. For that, I am truly sorry, sir.”

Pytho’s chest puffed up at the title. “You are forgiven. And I am sorry that I almost destroyed you.”

That caused Phillip to reel back a little. “You did not. I can best a dragon easily, I almost slit your throat.”

Pytho huffed and you smelled a bit of smoke on his breath. “You did not.”

“Okay,” you said, cutting in. “You’re both very dangerous. I’d still love it if we could keep the sword where it is.”

Phillip nodded. “I understand your hesitancy.”

He said it tied up on the floor. Despite not having a weapon, despite his promise not to try and hurt Pytho, despite the fact that you'd already untied him so he could eat.

“This is stupid,” you said, pacing up to him and immediately setting to work on the knots and ignoring his quiet noises in protest.

It didn’t take long to undo them, you’d put barely any effort into tying them in the first place.

“We have to free you so you can eat anyway, I don’t understand your obsession with this little performance.”

Phillip froze, still holding his hands together despite the lack of rope.

“What should I do?” he asked you quietly.

You threw the rope to the side. “That’s up to you.”

It took him hours before he was even willing to stand from his spot on the floor.

His movements were all colored by hesitation. You understood. The freedom made staying a choice. And even when he managed to stand, to move from his corner, he stayed.

He stuck to his corner as often as he could, but nonetheless, he stayed. Watching him sleep alone in the cold, you were certain that this was how Pytho had felt every night when you froze your ass off far away from him.

You both lit the fire for him every night. Pytho has started running off to get wood without you even asking, even if the trees that remained outside left you with enough wood to last years.

His armour got lighter as time passed, forgoing pieces from time to time. No matter what, the helmet stayed. It felt like a part of him, like you could imagine there possibly being a man under there.

He was adjusting to the newfound freedom about as well as you’d expected.

With every small sign of growing comfort, something else went wrong.

A few days after his freeing, while Pytho was out gathering more food for the two of you to eat, you heard him muttering in the corner.

You drifted closer and he paid you no mind. You couldn’t make out any words but you could tell it was frantic.

“Phillip,” you said softly, doing your best not to startle him. “Are you alright?”

You had no idea if you’d frightened him, he remained entirely unreadable. All except for his hands. He had foregone his gloves and much of the armour on his arms and you watched as he nervously fidgeted, threatening his fingers together, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly, his hands never staying still for more than a moment.

“I’m wasting time here,” he said. “I have things to do. I have a duty to this land.”

You knew it was near impossible to get through to him but you couldn’t help the urge to try. “It’s a waste to rest?”

“It is. I need to go, need to continue on.”

You sat beside him, as close as you could get without touching. “You should take me back home on your way. I’ve got a duty too, you know.”

His head fell back. Metal against stone sent a clanging noise echoing across the walls. “That’s different. You were brainwashed.”

“I wasn’t. The monsters are real you know. I’ve seen them. We all do, every year. I really would have been saving them. Whatever girl they chose instead of me really did save them. Maybe you don’t think it’s right. That’s fine. It’s an important duty nonetheless.”

“It’s not the same. I’m not being marched to my death.”

“People will still need saving in a week, in a year, in a century. There’s no real, final end to it. There has to be ends to it for you. Little ones. There just has to be.”

His head was turned towards you and you squirmed, feeling like you were being studied.

Finally, he said, “It upsets you.”

“What?”

“That I never stop. That upsets you?”

You nodded. “It does.”

“I can stand tiny ends to it. To ease your mind.”

A sad laugh escaped you. “I’d rather you did it for you.”

“That’s the best I can do right now. You’re the same, aren’t you?”

And you supposed you were. “I can’t go back. I can’t do that to him. Or to you, I guess.”

A small laugh escaped him, a noise you weren’t sure you’d ever heard from him before. “You guess. I’ll take it.”

Pytho returned, entering the cave a little too quickly and knocking one of his piles of treasure over. He dropped a cart in front of you, this one with boxes of pastries covering it.

“The humans seemed to love this one,” he said with his disarming, open-mouthed grin.

“Who are you taking those from?” Phillip asked incredulously, and you were almost certain you could hear a smile in his voice.

You grabbed something that looked chocolatey and when you felt that it was still warm you almost sobbed. “I don’t care who he’s taking it from,” you said, taking a massive bite of it. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

You scarfed down three pastries, offering a small piece to Pytho, just so he could taste it. He spat it back out, questioning how you could ever eat something like that.

And then you remembered your stoic knight, still sitting beside you, just watching you eat, and a sense of guilt overtook you.

“I’m sorry,” you said and he perked up as you addressed him. “You know, I could turn around or we could close our eyes. We wouldn’t have to see anything. So we could eat together.”

You didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait for him to politely refuse, instead turning around and signaling for Pytho to do the same. You shut your eyes, just for good measure, as you leaned against the dragon.

The quiet thud of the helmet being set on the floor made your heart swell.

As you took another bite of a pastry, this one filled with a beautiful lemon cream, he slid his hand into your open one and ate behind you, slower than he’d ever eaten before.

Even if it was for you, you hoped he enjoyed it.

And still, no matter how much progress you made, every night he still slept in that goddamn corner.

You were glad Pytho curled up around you at night because then at least you couldn't see him, sad and alone next to his fire, away from the two of you.

You knew Pytho could tell it bothered you. He always did his best to distract you, pull all of your attention to him. He’d gotten pretty good at it.

He was nuzzling into your side, pulling giggles from you as he gave you a big, slobbery kiss on your face.

“What are dragon kisses for?” you asked.

“What?”

“I’m just curious. Humans kiss their kids, their partners, their parents, all sorts of people they love. Dragon kisses don’t feel like something you can do as casually as a kiss on the cheek.”

Pytho perked up immediately. “You love me?”

You pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Of course I do.”

He purred at you as he answered your question. “Well, dragon kisses are just for mates. We aren’t an overly affectionate species.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You know, maybe you can’t kiss like a human but I could kiss like a dragon.”

He tilted his head and you decided to take the gesture as a challenge.

You opened your mouth and licked a broad stripe up the side of his face. His scales tasted ashy and were incredibly smooth against your tongue.

A wave of heat passed through him as you did, a deep guttural sound escaping him.

You pulled back, trying to get a better look at him.

“What was that?” you asked quietly.

He ducked his head down in a poor attempt to hide from you. “Nothing. It was nothing.”

Something clicked in your head. “Hold on. You said dragons only kiss their mates.”

He nodded hesitantly.

“You kiss me all the time though.”

He whined again, his tail moving away from you and curling in front of him. “I’m sorry. I know it’s strange, I know you’re human, I can't help it. You're so soft and nice and I love you so much…”

As his words got more frantic you kissed his snout again, shushing him. “You should’ve told me. If I’d known my big, strong dragon wanted me maybe I could’ve done something about it sooner.”

You practically watched his eyes glaze over, head tucking into your chest as he purred more.

You gave him all the kisses you could, peppering them along his head wherever you could reach. After about a dozen, you decided to try another dragon one, licking along his jaw.

You were flipped and pinned under him in a second, looking up at a ravenous face. His wings were folded over the two of you, blocking you from the outside world. In here, it was just the two of you.

You couldn’t be happier.

“Please, let me see you,” he hissed and you struggled to get your clothes off as quickly as you could. You kicked your pants off and they got caught on your ankles, spurring on a minor giggling fit, feeling absolutely giddy.

And he just watched, perfectly content to stare down at you as you waged a minor battle against your clothes, desperate to get your bare skin against his.

As you lay below him, finally fully naked, you didn’t feel shy or self-conscious. It felt right, the two of you, like this.

“I will never understand clothes,” he informed you. “Why would you ever cover this up?”

His head shifted around, looking at every part of you he’d never gotten to see before.

As his head moved downwards, you could tell exactly when he noticed how wet you were. He stopped moving entirely, nostrils flaring and eyes locked on you.

He nosed at you and you opened your legs for him, spreading them as wide as they could go.

His tongue snaked out instantly, licking a hot stripe through your folds. Whatever he found there seemed to interest him because the next thing you knew his thick tongue was snaking deep inside of you, your walls stretching around him.

You let out a strangled cry, fighting to not snap your legs closed at how overwhelming the sensation was.

His content vibrations ran through you, causing a spark of pleasure to run up your spine.

His tongue found a spot deep inside of you that’d didn’t quite feel like the rest, rubbing against it experimentally and you slapped your hand over your mouth, trying not to scream.

It was too much. You’d never felt anything like this before.

His jaw was cracked open over your stomach, his impossibly long tongue reaching as far into you as it could go.

His tongue slowly withdrew from you and you didn’t know whether to beg for him to keep going or take your reprieve from the overwhelming sensation while you could.

You noticed his hips shifting and glanced down. Your heart skipped a beat.

He was massive, probably a foot long.

“That’s not going to fit,” you whispered.

The dragon shook his head. “No, I would never try. You’re too small, it would break you. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“What about you?” you asked, feeling bad you couldn’t reciprocate.

“I have everything I need,” he said, nuzzling into your chest once more. “But if you want someone your size, we could always ask for help.”

Your face heated as you realized what he was implying. To be honest, you’d entirely forgotten Phillip was there, too caught up in what you were doing. Oh god, he’d probably heard everything.

Pytho lifted his wings as you looked at Phillip, who had turned to face the wall.

“I am so sorry,” you called out, embarrassment washing over you.

He turned to you slowly and you prepared to get yelled at.

Instead, his voice came out breathy and strained. “Do you want me to help?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared back at him. “I do.

He moved towards the pair of you. “I live to serve”

You wanted to kiss him. You wanted so badly to kiss him and you just couldn’t.

So instead you made do, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards you. He fell next to you, both of you leaning against Pytho.

He froze a little as your hands neared his helmet and you whispered, “Trust me.”

He untensed, although you could sense his anxiety.

You grasped the side of his helmet slowly, tilting it gently to the side to reveal a sliver of his neck. You moved towards it, taking all the self-control you had to go slowly.

He shivered as you neared him, your breath ghosting over his skin.

You started gently, pressing soft kisses into his skin.

Before long you wanted more, nipping at his neck and sucking marks into it as he let out little whines. You could feel his throat move as he swallowed, could feel his muscles tense as you moved.

Eventually, he pulled you away from him and you looked up at him, wide-eyed.

“Um…” he said, his voice shaky and high. “If you do want me to… to help. You need to stop doing that.

You smiled, resting your forehead on his helm. “If you insist.”

The way you’d pulled at his clothes, shifting his shirt out of the way, meant you could see as he gulped.

His hand hovered inches over your hip, as if afraid to touch you. You covered it with your own, pressing it onto bare skin.

You didn’t mind his staring so much now. You could feel the waves of awe coming off of him as his hands gently slid up and down your sides.

You hooked your fingers into the front of his pants and pulled him closer to you.

“Please,” you asked.

He didn’t bother taking his pants off, instead pulling them down just enough to get his dick out, already painfully hard.

Pytho’s tongue had more than prepared you and Phillip seemed like if someone breathed on him wrong he might come so you wasted no time, pulling him over to you.

Pytho sat there, watching as Phillip pushed inside of you. He was painfully slow, groaning with every inch.

Your walls fluttered as his hand pressed tentatively down on your clit and he had to stop entirely, breathing slowly.

“Do you know how hard it was,” he gasped out as he buried himself fully inside of you, unmoving. “Hearing all that and not touching myself. It felt like torture.

You could feel Pytho shifting behind you, molding himself against your back as you saw his hips twitch, grinding against nothing.

You opened your mouth to speak when your words were cut off with a sharp thrust.

Phillip gripped your hips so hard you were worried it might bruise in the morning. You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

He slowly found his rhythm, desperately trying to pull you impossibly closer as he thrusted inside of you.

You felt something hard against your back, moving as Phillip slammed inside of you again. And then, as if sharing one mind, you felt a sticky substance coat your back just as Phillip gave you one final, hard thrust, groaning as he came inside of you.

As soon as Phillip pulled out, Pytho rushed to snake his tongue back inside of you. It was so dexterous, pressing up perfectly inside of you as he tasted both you and Phillip.

Phillips fingers intertwined with yours as your back arched and you felt waves of pleasure run through you. Pytho seemed intent on working you through it, his tongue moving steadily until you could take it anymore.

You pushed at his head and he lifted it, mouth slick and eyes looking just as dazed as you felt.

You were all gross and sticky and you’d never been happier in your life.

Phillip snorted. “I was supposed to kill you.”

“Plans change,” you said.

“You never could have killed me,” Pytho declared and you couldn’t help but smile as their argument began again.

You woke up in a tangle of limbs. Your head was tucked into Phillip's chest, his arms wrapped around you with just the tip of Pytho’s tail betwixt you. You were both entirely surrounded by him, curled up protectively around you.

Pytho had to take both of you down to the nearest lake to get clean the next morning. He sat patiently at the edge of the pond as both of you washed off the mess from the night before.

Phillip helped you clean, scrubbing your back and running his fingers gently through your hair as you both stood in the waist-deep water.

You’d had the good sense to remove your clothes but Phillip had to clean his along with himself, standing in the water in his pants, shirt, and that helmet.

It seemed a little silly but you wouldn’t bother him over it. It would come in due time. Or maybe it wouldn’t and honestly, you didn’t think you would mind.

Pytho was content watching the two of you, occasionally shifting his tail to splash water at you, a favor you returned to him readily.

As the cleaning finished and the three of you sat on the shore, drying off, Phillip braided your hair as you both leaned against your warm dragon.

You were curious where he’d learned it but scared to ask, to remind him of anything other than this perfect moment.

He did not seem to understand how precious and fragile this moment was, breaking the silence by saying, “I can’t stay here,” and shattering everything.

You looked at him with panicked eyes and Pytho hid his head under his wing.

“What?”

His next words came slower, more gently. “I think we’ve made a little home here. I do. But I can’t just stay.”

You nodded. You understood. “Neither can I. You’re going off adventuring again, right?”

He nodded and you immediately added, before you could lose your nerve. “I want to come.”

“It’s going to be dangerous,” he said, his voice not commanding but instead cautious and worried.

“Please. I need to do something, to help someone. I feel like I’ve got a debt on my back. I can’t let it hang over me like this forever.”

He went to protest but you stopped him. “I don’t care what you think, I can’t live with it. Please.”

He nodded. “First, we’re going to need to find my sword.”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sure it won’t be too hard.”

“And we can’t come back every night,” he continued. “You’re going to have to spend days on the road. You sure that’s what you want?”

You rolled your eyes. “I think I can manage for a few days.”

Pytho lifted his head from where he was hiding it. “Come back? You said you can’t stay?”

It took a second to understand what he could possibly be asking. The idea of leaving him forever was so inconceivable to you that you hadn’t realized what this must have looked like.

You rushed over to him, kissing his forehead. “No, I’m not leaving you. Neither of us are. We just…I just can’t stay in a cave for the rest of my life.”

“People will still need helping,” Phillip chimed in, standing behind you. “I won’t ever stop doing this. It’s what I was made to do. But it's been too long. I think it was about time I found a home to come back to.”

You smiled at him as you leaned into your dragon’s side. “I think it was.”

#terato #terato writing #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster bf #dragon x reader #dragon boyfriend #dragon #dragon bf #The cws on this are wild #Phillip’s armour set up is a little wonky compared to most real armour #I attribute this to his accursed knight status #Definitely not just for narrative ease #I would never #also I came up with this idea and then wrote the whole thing in like 6 days #Everyone say thank you ducky #lol

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kneelingshadowsalome · 8 months

Text

FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT 1/4

(König x F!Reader)

Summary: You have seen him in your dreams. The seer has divined his coming. But nothing has prepared you for witnessing him in the flesh. (Historical AU where König fights for the Roman Empire in an auxiliary unit, finds a cute barbarian woman and decides to keep her as his own.) Word count: 5.3 k Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY. Spoils of war/enemies to lovers trope, graphic depictions of violence, historical gruesomeness, pining, odd banter, mixed feelings, romantic fluff, dubcon cuddling, eventual smut. Captor/captive dynamic. König is a brutal warrior... and a gentle giant. A/N: Lol what now? König dual wields 2 swords, goes Mike Tyson on his enemies, teaches his captive girl constellations in German, cuddles her and feeds her grapes, buuut mainly just tries to get into her pants (which historically did not exist at the time) A bit of a slow burn, but don't worry, they'll bang eventually ^^

AD 90, somewhere in the untamed frontiers of the Roman Empire…

The end of the world is here.

Not only have the crops failed for two years in a row, making chieftains beggars and beggars food for the fish, but now there are rumours that the god of war has arrived to destroy the land. The accursed Romans had turned their eagle gaze back to your land after years of sending their troops elsewhere, making it seem like they were not interested in your distant land after all. Untamed, they called it, harsh and barren and therefore inferior – your lush, abundant, beautiful land. No doubt they spat on it in their war councils because your roads were not paved, because your crops and villages were modest, and the women sometimes fought alongside men. Their storytellers immortalized false tales about you, calling you barbarians, but the only barbarians you could think of were the Romans themselves – crude, filthy and boorish creatures, drowning in wine and shit in their cities.

Rumours started to get fat and distressed when the troops approached your village. They said there was a giant at the head of the army, that the Romans followed a Titan's son who loved to eat men, torture women and impale children. They said he didn't accept proper food but preferred to eat his fallen enemies, washed his weapons with the blood of children, and split captured women apart with his cock, as long and sharp as his sword. They told that the Titan ordered his soldiers to poison the wells and destroy the growing crops with salt and vinegar. The rumours said that his tent was bigger than any chieftain's house and that he still struggled to stand at full height inside it.

Even the land itself seemed to bow before him. Good weather followed his conquest wherever he went; ambushes failed, scouts got caught and tortured, exposing more villages to pillage and ruin. Your brother told you to flee the village, but how could you survive without your clansmen? You didn't know how to hunt; you barely knew how to fish. Your task in the village was to gather clams from the shore, dye wool and help the old Seer. How long could you survive on sorrels and clams alone?

. . .

The old woman calls you to see her on the brink of war, and tells you to prepare for a ceremonial offering. Two horses, black as night if possible, brown at the very least, to appease the Great Mother of the Earth and quench her thirst for blood. If the Mother is satisfied with your offering, She will perhaps stop the approaching army or convince the Titan to leave your village alone.

She does a small rite before you, and you need to stay with her through her visions. You hate the smell of the leaves she burns, and try to cover your nose with your tunic to prevent breathing in the bitter fumes. The seer looks like she’s just lying herself down to sleep, but it’s always a burden when the spirits arrive and she starts to talk. You turn your back on her to coax them to rise: a mortal stare annoys the chthonic ones. You nearly fall asleep too as you wait, wanting nothing more than to go back to your own hut and have a good night’s sleep. Perhaps because you’re lousy tonight, and less vigilant as you should be, the spirits arrive sooner than either of you thought.

“He’s strong,” the seer croaks from the earthen bed, and you fight the urge to turn around and peek at the old woman, currently in the clutches of spirits.

“Invincible… Hungry... The horses…won’t suffice…”

She drifts someplace else, and you try to memorize every word, every intonation, as cryptic or as simple as they are, for later interpretation.

“I see you,” she says in a slightly more cheerful tone, which is odd because the old woman is never happy or satisfied, no matter how bright the sun shines or how much food there is in the storages and pits.

“Me?” You dare to speak even though you’re not allowed to disturb the spirits. You could slap yourself for blurting out a single word, but luckily, the hungry ones don’t attack you for your insolence.

“You.. will be his downfall,” she speaks as if you are having a conversation here. “Be there. When he arrives.”

“...Be there? Why?” You dare to utter again, more concerned about what the Mother implies than the potential fury of some lowly earthen spirits. You haven’t got the faintest clue about what She might be suggesting. Why do you have to participate in the battle? How can you be there without getting killed? You’re not a warrior… The Mother has it all wrong.

Suddenly, you curse the night, you curse the whole day, knowing your brother’s late proposal was perhaps a warning, a hint from the gods to leave, and leave quickly.

The old woman laughs dryly on the ground - the throaty, outright sick cackle makes you flinch.

You don’t like this... You don’t like this at all.

“Mother. What must I do?” You demand to know, thinking about how all the gods, spirits, old women, and Titans should go to hell.

“Become a tree,” the old woman offers as if it’s the easiest thing to do. “A flower. Me...”

. . .

You become a marten first, then a bird. Then perhaps a tree.

You climb a spruce and wait there. You wait until the sunrise; you wait until noon. You wait until you see the glint of the Roman spearheads and hear the sound of their march.

You’ve dreamed of the Titan ever since you left the seer’s hut. You’ve dreamed of him slaying everyone in the village; you’ve dreamed of him driving a thick spear into the ground and grabbing you with an intent to raise you into the air and impale you on it. You’ve dreamed of him behind you, above you, inside you. You wake up one morning only to see that half of the people have left. You don’t know where they have gone, and you can’t follow them even if you did because the old woman waits for you in front of her hut and gives you a nod the instant you walk into another beautiful, sunny day.

That’s why you’ve turned into a branch in a tree, but for what purpose, you have no idea. You can’t understand why you must be here to witness the world’s end.

Your men scream and shout and roar as they crash into the thick forest of spears. The enemy is silent: it’s eerie, how the world burns and falls into ruin around you, people are screaming; everyone who has a soul and a heart is screaming for Mother as they die, but the men behind the Roman shields refuse to emit a sound. They don’t curse or shout or summon their gods; they simply stand their ground and pant mist into the air as wave after wave of men break on their shields and die before their feet. Somebody loses his spear because it gets stuck between your clansman’s ribs, but the Roman simply draws his sword in its stead: it’s the only sound among the pitched wails that cut through the forest – the cold, clear ring of a gladius being pulled from its sheath.

That is why you flinch at the sound of the first shout, a brutish command that sends all the shields to the side, only to present more shields: the Romans switch positions in their formation as if they’re not even human beings like the rest of you, just a single enormous creature made of iron and leather and bone, operating it's flat forest of weapons.

And then you see him: the giant of your dreams, the hungry titan everyone has told you about. He rises from the tide of helmets like a summoned god, concealed as one of the soldiers and only now revealing his true nature. He stands at least two heads taller than the rest, pushes his own soldiers to the side and breaks out of the formation these vicious Romans love so much. You knew he would be strong and big, but you didn't know he refused to show his face… You wonder what kind of a monster hides behind the black cloth with nothing but two eye holes ripped on it. As if this man needed the additional effort to stand out from other soldiers...

He's like a God of War, just like the survivors said: his armour is of Roman design, but the amount of metal that had to be scraped together to cover this man's shoulders and chest must've demanded a fortune in gold. He doesn't seem to care about the Roman ways, however: he throws his shield away as soon as he's out of the cumbersome formation as if he has carried it only as a decoration up until this point. He draws another sword in its stead – if any other man did such a stupid thing, traded his shield for a weapon, you would snort. But not now.

Standing between the Romans and your clansmen like a challenge, a threat, a deity, even the men possessed by the seer's blood spells hesitate to approach him. But when they do, the god unleashes carnage: the first warrior gets his stomach slashed open, and the two thick swords look like toothpicks when wielded by this man. A stomach wound is a gruesome, slow way to die - but just before the warrior's entrails spill to dangle between his feet, the brute grants him mercy by sweeping his head off with a single blow of his gladius.

A roar finally rises from your enemy: they cheer Death on as the head of your neighbour meets the mud next. The soil is already soaked in blood, but the Mother is hungry still. The forest booms with Her bloodlust as the god moves around like a slow tempest of muscle, metal and darkness: he breaks every Roman rule by fighting as his own man instead of demeaning himself as one of them, a lowly part of this odd metal beast before you. He sends a limb flying in the air with a swing of a sword; he uses the same weapon as a bludgeon to bash in someone's skull. He crushes a man's chest simply by sinking down onto one knee, breaking bone, tendon and flesh to splinters as a whole ribcage gets crushed under his massive weight.

Warriors flee before him, they fall under the combined wrath of the Mother and the Titan's sword. The dead seem to fall eternally, along with your heart, before meeting the ground with a hollow thud.

Your chieftain is among the last men standing, meeting this unstoppable foe with admirable courage. Not having succumbed to the spells of bloodlust in years, he meets his death as a seasoned but old warrior. With his fighting years behind him, your chief doesn't have a chance against this man, but you have to grant the beast a feather's worth of honour, because he recognizes your chieftain as the veteran he is and salutes him with his sword. Then he proceeds with the bloodbath: flinging your leader's sword and axe easily to the side, he walks straight into his arms like he would into a hug, grabs him by the waist, and raises him into the air like he's nothing but a child.

Your scream never leaves your lungs as you watch how the Titan raises the draping cloth from his face, just enough to sink his teeth into your beloved chieftain’s neck. The noise that erupts from your elder is not that of a man but a tortured animal. It’s not from this world, what you witness next: the giant tears a hunk of flesh from your chief like he’s a piece of roasted meat. Blood streams forth, his screams fade away all too slowly, and you hear your own weak wail in the air as the Titan lets go of the heap that used to be a strong male and a wise leader.

Your chieftain is dead; his essence spills to the earth in spurts to appease the God of War, who spits blood and flesh to the ground, making you gag into the cold spring air.

Then he raises his swords towards the sun, and the forest erupts into a roar with him: the thundering, ear-splitting cheer from his warriors makes the very earth quake beneath your tree. It seems to shake the branches of the forest, and before you know it, the giant’s howl of triumph breaks the one you’re curled around, and you fall, fall, fall into the mud beneath you.

You're not a tree anymore. No: you’re very much a human woman there in the dirt as the sound of shouting ceases like a distant dream.

And he turns.

Death turns.

Mother always said you were a curious creature, which is perhaps why you search for his eyes, even though you should be running. She also said you were a smart one, which is why you know that running is futile. Your limbs wouldn’t carry you far anyway. It is a cruel joke from the gods to have what little strength you have left pour out of you into the ground and up to the feet of the enemy who is already strong, both in body and in will.

The Titan looks at you with genuine wonder, a curiosity that surpasses your own. To your odd thrill, you find that his eyes are blue: the same blue of the sea which you used to collect delicious clams from.

The soldiers behind him shift with lust – their gear clinks as they devour you with unbridled hunger. The Titan is the only one who looks at you like you’re simply a cute little squirrel who happened to fall from a tree right there at his feet. Then his eyes drop to your breasts, and the familiar hunger that lives in men gives the ocean of his eyes a clouded look. When his stare finds yours again, he's a different man: the treacherous beast of your dreams.

You had hoped for a swift death… Violent but quick. But it’s clear that it’s not death he has in store for you as he takes a step towards you. It’s not a quick nor a slow death; it’s not death at all, because–

No.

You’d rather have your arms torn off and fed to the Romans rather than have him thrust the sword between his legs, his third weapon, inside you. If you’re going to die screaming, it will not happen on your back; you will not amuse this beast with your womanhood and tears.

You scramble forward to pick up something, anything: a bronze dirk from a fallen warrior. The giant’s eyes fall on the sad excuse of a weapon, then on the sorry excuse of you. He thinks you’re planning to fight him with that thing, and the corners of his eyes crease a little from the prospect of having to subdue you. You’re proving to be quite the entertainment, and you curse those eyes, looking so kind and lively when just moments ago, the same eyes were inhuman and possessed. His are the eyes of a wayfarer, a wanderer, not a soldier: you catch a hint of sadness in them and curse again.

He’s not human, you remind yourself and show him what actual humans are made of. What women are made of. You give him another name, Giant, because you’ve always feared giants and hated the stories about them. Dumb and reckless creatures they are, stupid destroyers who always place their trust in their size. You never meant to fight him, and he only catches up on it as you turn the dagger towards yourself and guide it to point straight at your heart.

You will be his downfall, just like the seer said.

“Nein–Warte,” the Giant speaks his first words, surprisingly soft to belong to a man like him.

The sorrow in his stare consumes you in full now. It gushes forth like a tide, causing your breath and hands to shake when they need to be stern. You straighten your spine, jut your chin forward, and call for Mother: you don’t even know if you’re yelling for your bearer, or the Great Mother, or the earth that gives life to all. Perhaps you call them all to gather around and witness your sacrifice, higher in price than any of the Titan’s offerings combined. The blood you’re about to spill onto the soil will surely appease the land and raise it to arms to finally fight against this beast.

He says something else just before you pull the blade back to strike it into your chest, and you curse for the third time in your mind: giants aren’t supposed to move that fast; they aren’t supposed to interfere in your last ritual.

But the worst of it is that even when he finally subdues you, even as he wrestles the blade away from you, he ends up drawing a large gash on his forearm… As if he is trying his best to protect you from accidentally cutting yourself.

. . .

You are brought to his tent, screaming.

It’s not as big as a chieftain’s house; it’s barely the size of yours. But it is larger than the tents you saw when you got carried there: as a spitting, screeching, hissing package of what these brutes would no doubt consider a true barbarian woman with uncivilized manners and a fuckable cunt. They will talk about you around their campfires tonight: about you getting broken in by their true commander. It’s enough to satisfy them for now: to imagine their champion to fuck you bloody and sore. And who knows: perhaps they’ll receive the scraps if the Titan gets tired of you.

The precious dagger is somewhere in the mud, probably trampled there like it’s nothing but a piece of worthless metal. Your own trampling is only about to begin as the Giant marches into his abode and sends the men away, giving you uneasy looks in the process, perhaps checking if any of them had enough time to have a go at you. Luckily for him, you’re in the same condition as he left you: legs together, safe and pretty, because he bound them with a rope along with your hands. You are nothing but a delivery, thrown on the floor of dirt and a few animal skins. He just nods at you, happy to acknowledge that you are untouched by the others, as if it would somehow be worse for you to be raped by ten of those petite men than be raped by him: a cruel, bloodthirsty Giant with a giant cock.

Your ankles and wrists get sore as you watch him doff his armour. He takes off the helmet, the belted straps, the segmented plates of his shoulder guards and the heavy Roman cuirass. The gods have truly favoured this man, not only gifting him tremendous height but insurmountable strength too. His muscles are large and lean and quiver with latent power as he moves; his back is so broad it almost competes with the wide mouth of the tent. He doesn’t seem to suffer from the cold either, but he keeps his mask on for whatever ghastly reason. Even if there is a monster under that mask, his body speaks of virility: he’s a man in his prime, a giant at his strongest, making you feel like an elf, a tiny little creature in the feet of this man who must be descended from titans indeed.

You continue to watch as he washes his hands in a small basin, cleans his mouth and neck, too. You reckon the water in that bowl is blood red and dark when he finally dries himself with a white cloth. He stands before you in nothing but his mask and the dark red tunic he had under the armour. He ties it from the waist with a simple leather belt, and it only now makes sense to you why Roman soldiers dye their clothes red: you’re pretty sure you can still see the darker spots on the hem of that tunic, the ones that used to be the lifeblood of your clansmen and kin.

He has the audacity to ask you - wordlessly - to clean his wound, the one you caused him. He sets you free from your bounds, and you are given fresh water and another cloth. He even opens a smallish wooden box of salve that has a familiar smell to it: pine tar and honey, used by your people to treat minor wounds and prevent bad spirits from getting into the wound. You wonder how he even knows about such a balm: is this warrior a Roman at all, or is he some odd creature hauled from the edges of the world to fight for them? You wonder if he has made the salve himself, extracted the tar from the pine and foraged the wax and honey himself, then cursed with his coarse language when he got stung by multiple bees…

You drive away the thoughts that threaten to make this brute human by snorting at his injury. The damage he gave to himself when he tried to guide the blade away from you at the price of his own blood.

It still troubles you that he did it. Even a tiny wound like this can bring any man down if it starts to fester. The cold winds and rains of spring can easily get into the gash and make it rot.

The idea of this giant being forced to his knees because of some filthy dagger wielded by a squirrel of a woman makes you smile inside. It would be a fitting fate for this man. But the vision also makes your heart sting. The thought of him dying of a simple flesh wound, alone and far away from his home, makes your heart grow kinder than it should.

You decide there is nothing you can do but treat his arm, strong and scarred from previous battles. He sits down while you get to stay on the ground, and you try to ignore it that your face is now level with his groin. He sits with a wide spread in those powerful thighs, and you wonder if it's because the rumours about his cock are true. You keep your eyes everywhere else except the hem of that tunic and what's going on under there. He purrs at your touch, making it clear that it doesn't need much more than your soft fingertips to get him hard after a triumphant day on the field of battle.

The wound is not deep, but you clean it carefully, trying to ignore the way his eyes seem to bore into you as you take care of him. Your hand is somewhat steady as you treat the damage with the nice-smelling salve, but you flinch as his hand suddenly meets your cheek. You look up at him, heart plummeting, thighs instinctively pressing together from the gentle way with which he cups your face.

“Schön,” he says, again with a tender voice and an adoring, almost worshipful stare. You don’t have a clue what he’s saying, but you know now for sure that it's not the tongue of the Romans he speaks. The scent of pines and bees lingers between you as he brushes a thumb over your lower lip. You are weak enough to give him a breath, a helpless, hot little exhale that meets his hand like a gift.

“Schön wie eine Fee,” he rumbles, sounding intoxicated or like he's under a spell of sleep.

“What the hell are you saying,” you whisper in your own tongue: just a meek little sputter, a tiny, horrified breath, but the giant’s eyes narrow with a smile.

“Sie redet,” he says happily, and your shoulders sink – you are on the verge of screaming from frustration alone. Whatever you do seems to only amuse this man, and you snap your mouth shut. Your cheeks heat up with recurring waves of odd fever. The ground beneath your shins is all but warm, and yet you feel warm all over: a dangerous sign, you know, and oddly tied to the peculiar bodings you have seen all week.

Because there have been many omens in the air lately.

It’s just that none of them were portents of war.

The cranes started to mate early this year, and you have found a lot of clams from the shore every day. Even your brother encountered a boar with nine piglets; everyone celebrated him as some holy man who had seen the Great Mother when he returned to the village that day. The wind started to blow from south soon after, and the moon has grown along with your womb: this morning, on the brink of war, you woke up wet and restless.

All the omens speak of fertility, of growth, of a new cycle and of birth: of spring and life. There’s nothing about death and decay, nothing except what the people have told you about… him. The death himself. The war god.

“König,” he says as if he can hear your thoughts and wishes to correct them. You look up and see he’s pointing to himself, or rather, holding his hand over his heart. You fight the urge to scoff at the gesture. As if this beast had a heart…

“König,” he repeats the word and pats his chest, and you realize he’s trying to tell you his name. You wrinkle your nose in distaste, and he smiles. It’s easy to tell when he does, even with the cloth that covers his face: you can see the joy clearly from his eyes, the boyish grin that must be occurring under that mask.

“Du?” He points at you next, inquisitive. He has an odd way of pointing: with two fingers, slightly crooked, and you understand very well what he’s asking of you. You refuse to tell him your name, however, settling for pouting a lip at him next. The smile in his eyes only deepens.

“Fee,” he pokes you gently on the shoulder and leans back in his odd Roman chair, seemingly content with having now named you.

And Mother was right: you are curious, so incredibly curious to know what this beast has chosen to call you and why. Are you a rat to him…? Some bird? Perhaps simply a girl?

He is so pleased with your conversation that he pours himself some wine and drinks the whole cup with one gulp. Great, you sigh inside your head, a beast and a drunkard. He pours another cup and tries to offer it to you, and when you don’t make a move to grab the clay mug, he brings it to your lips. You entertain him with a tiny sip: you’ve heard of wine and know that Romans are fond of it, but you have never tasted it yourself.

The tart, bitter flavour almost makes you cough. You thought wine was supposed to be sweet: everyone always describes it as something like milk or honey or juice from an overripe apple. It very much is not, and you almost choke on it and then make a wry face at your captor. He - König - only laughs. It’s another thing that catches you off guard: first those boyish, sad eyes and now this hearty, grown man’s laugh. You have proved to be such an amusement to him that he doesn’t force you to drink any more wine and enjoys the rest of it himself.

Then he rises and makes you shrink from him again, towers above you for a moment, and looks at you with that warm curiosity that makes your heart race.

“Müde?”

He tilts his head, the bag of darkness shifts, the blue eyes behold you fondly, and for some reason, you whimper an answer to yet another question you can’t even understand. He takes your little squeak as a yes and falls to crouch before you, then raises a massive hand to the leather strings that keep your demure little dress up.

To your horror, he pulls the knotted tangle open before you can stop him. Your dress falls from your shoulders and drops to pool around you, and you simply and verily stop breathing.

His eyes wash over you, he examines every little part of exposed skin like an entire treasure chest has suddenly opened before him. You pray to all the gods that he would find it in his heart to be gentle tonight. Your nipples perk up – from the cold or from his stare, you don’t know.

The rough callous of his palm meets your breast and encloses it in warm support. He cups you, weighs you like he would a fruit, and then he squeezes you, rather hard, too: a deliberate attempt to make you squeal again. He replies to your pathetic mewl with an approving rumble, and you look up at him with all the helpless tenderness of the Mother, hoping that Her gentle pleas might persuade this man not to hurt you.

“Please don’t,” you whisper, and his eyes dart to your mouth, to your eyes, then back to your lips again. He immediately softens his touch. Then he lifts you from inside your poor dress, picks you up like you weigh nothing at all, and carries you to his broad bed, the sturdiest you have ever seen.

This man feels like the strangest of fates, like a hopeless destiny, as he sets you on the skins and straw mattress, right next to your fluttering heart. Your insides ache as he undresses before you, entirely without shame. He’s hard under the tunic he rips off and tosses on the cold ground. Your eyes are glued to the legendary cock you’ve heard so much about, the cock that splits women apart: and it’s true that it's huge. It resembles the ones you’ve seen on horses, not on men, and your thighs are glued together as he comes next to you while that pale, monstrous cock sways long and heavy between his thighs. He moves you around a little, and you squeal from how weak you feel: weak as a mouse as he covers you with one of those rich furs he has in plenty on the bed. Then crawls under it too, right next to you.

Your heart almost wrenches itself out of your chest as a strong arm pulls you against him: the swell of your ass meets his thighs, solid and broad like treetrunks, and your lower back meets the hot, almost too hot horse cock. It starts to leak and throb against your skin the instant your flesh is pressed against his. You try not to whimper and moan as the Giant, König, curls around you like you two have always done this.

He takes a long, earnest inhale from your neck and hair, rumbles deeply and contently, and tightens his grip. Apparently, you smell and feel good…

You wait and wait to be plundered and raped, but König only settles for holding you tightly, like you’re a children’s toy made of the softest straw and purest undyed wool. You relax slowly, and he purrs against your back, starts to fondle your breasts, ardently, until your body betrays you and you find yourself wet again; he squeezes and squishes your teats slowly, approvingly, then pinches your nipple once before finally falling into a heavy, deep sleep.

…

Please forgive your author for any historical inaccuracies and other silly things you find facepalmable <3 During this time König would've probably spoken some form of Old Saxon but since I'm not a TOLKIEN we have to settle for modern-day German here. I don't have a taglist for this fic so please check my pinned masterlist for future updates.

Translations

Nein, warte - No, wait

Schön - Beautiful

Schön wie eine Fee - Beautiful as a fairy

Sie redet - She talks

Du? - You?

Müde? - Tired?

#könig fanfiction #könig x reader #könig x you #könig #könig cod #konig x reader #könig smut #könig fluff #historical au #Roman soldier!König #könig x female reader

3K notes · View notes

flowerwrites06 · 7 months

Text

forest bride — myg

FOREST BRIDE | Min Yoongi | Oneshot | Requested by Anon

Original Request: hii i would like to request an arranged marriage au that turned out as a healthy relationship, unlike where oc came from y'know family full of mistreatment and favoritism. any member is fine! thank u! Plot: The business transaction of a marriage between two previous warring clans takes an unexpected turn. Pairing: Yoongi x OC (Name: Kiku) Genre: Historical Inspired | Arranged Marriage Rating: 18+ Word Count: 8.9k Warnings: emotionally distanced family dynamics, emotional abuse and bullying from family members, minor character death (mentioned), angst, explicit sexual content (unprotected, gentle). Author's Note: This was soo much fun to do! I hope you like reading it as much as I loved writing it! Thank you to the anon who requested this <3

Kiku was a quiet daughter amongst children of four in the Moon Clan. She was in the middle of the line of birth, often keeping to herself while her father doted on her brothers and her mother babied Hanaka, her sister. Kaito, the oldest son of their family, was the only person who ever paid attention Kiku.

He taught her how to play the Koto when they were younger. The soft plucking of strings were the only sounds she made in her household. Her mother, Keiko complimented the sound with the assumption that it was Hanaka. When Kaito explained that it was Kiku, their mother pointed the lack of precision at the ends of each verse.

Kiku felt safe and comforted under the wing of Kaito.

But fate had other plans.

Kaito grew sick after a hunting wound turned gangrenous and the winter only worsened his condition. When he passed, Kiku felt the searing and back-breaking weight of her family's scrutiny.

Suddenly she was no longer Kaito's companion. She was a mouth they didn't want to feed.

On the fresh cusp of spring, her parents unceremoniously announced her arrangement to marry the chief of the Onyx clan. Their rival.

"Kaito said they were dangerous," Kiku said as she knelt on the ground of their main living area. Her parents stared down at her while Hanaka and their younger brother Haruki sat on the cushioned mat.

"Kaito isn't here. Don't name him when we haven't finished mourning, stupid girl," Keiko spoke through gritted teeth.

"You will marry Chief Min Yoongi and give this family an important alliance," Daiki said with a finality to his tone.

The Onyx Clan was notorious for raiding other clans, enslaving their high-born families and treating any foreign spouses like dirt. Preventing them from causing any problems in the Moon Clan was to keep them at bay with something that they didn't think was a risk.

Keiko would never send Hanaka to a place like that. Perhaps Kiku was prepared specifically for this very alliance, forcing themselves not to love her so they could make a difficult decision. Perhaps that was just her own heart trying to find a glimpse of love in a place that had none for her since the beginning.

Kiku lowered her head in a solemn acceptance, her dress still black and her heart still raw from mourning the only family member who loved her. "I will do as you wish."

The wedding flourished during a misty, cold morning just at the skirts of dawn where purple kissed the edges of the mountains. Kiku wore a white dress of pretty silk, embroidered in both ivory and crimson thread as if the cloth bled. A white veil laid over her head giving the world around her more of a misty vision.

They held the wedding in the central border between the Moon and Onyx Clan. There was a gentle plain where it was decorated with flowers, divided with wood and a tea set prepared on a small wooden table. Her father walked her over to the table.

Kiku forced herself not to look at her groom just yet. Instead staring at the teapot in front of them, spouting a plume of steam with the faint hint of jasmine and honey in her nose. Tea ceremonies during weddings were a common tradition amongst both clans. Thankfully, it was a tea that Kiku enjoyed but the symbol of it dawned on her like a heavy weight on her back.

Sharing tea with a man outside her family was a sign that she was now connected to him. Bonded to him. A man that Kiku hadn't even looked at yet. So she gained some bravery within herself and stared up.

Min Yoongi wasn't a large man but he was taller than her. In this vulnerable state, he looked like a looming statue. It wasn't necessarily his stature but his presence that created weight. His black eyes pierced deeply into her as if peeling off layers of every protective sense she had of herself.

A deep scar ran down his eye, making it a little greyer than the left eye. His lips were pursed and a little pink while his pitch black hair was long to the nape. Short hair was often a sign of a deadly warrior. Someone who killed many without mercy and had little honour. At least that was what her parents told her.

The esteemed monk stepped to the front of the altar and began to recite ancient chants of a bonding ritual. Kiku tried to focus on the words but she couldn't stop keeping Yoongi's gaze. His eyes softened just then when she wasn't loosening her gaze either. As if he was waiting for her to look at him.

For a brief moment, Kiku noticed something gentle behind that demeanour. Or perhaps it was yet again her mind tricking her into feeling something positive when her world was turning upside down and she couldn't do anything about it. Yoongi glanced briefly over to the monk as they stepped to the table.

He waved his hands as he spoke his chants before gesturing to a young boy.

It was the father's duty to pour the tea. So Daiki poured it with a solemn face, almost bored. The waft of jasmine and honey coated her nose, giving her some comfort.

The groom shared his tea with the bride first. Yoongi's hands were veined heavily as if he were training in the dark hours of the morning before coming here. He reached out carefully, slow enough so Kiku didn't feel shocked. He pulled at the fabric and revealed her face, the cold morning breeze kissing her heated up skin.

Yoongi picked the tea cup, softly placing the brim of the cup to her lips.

Kiku kept her eyes on him right until she felt the warm honey touch of the tea on her tongue. She slowly pressed her lips together as he pulled the cup away. Just as Yoongi's cup clinked down, she picked up her own cup.

Yoongi lowered his head a little, making it easy to her to gently tip the cup. He took a sip, his throat bobbed up and down before she placed it back on the table.

The ceremony had been sealed. Even as Kiku foolishly tried to look back and say goodbye to her family, her mother was already fixing Hanaka's hair and her father continued speaking to Haruki. Niether of them gave any indication that they wished for a goodbye so Kiku turned back without a word.

Yoongi held her hand, just barely brushing at first to ensure Kiku would respond.

Kiku curled her fingers around his, allowing him to fully intertwine together before making way to the horses.

Yoongi clasped her waist, pushing her up to sit on the horse. Then he sat behind her, grabbing the reins as the scent of rain wafted in Kiku's nose.

The air turned wet to the touch and she noticed the darkened splotches on the tree bark of a soft drizzle slowly turning to gentle rain.

"Are you sure you don't want to speak to them?" Yoongi uttered his first question as her husband and Kiku wasn't sure how to respond or feel.

Kiku glanced briefly at her family, seeing Haruki rubbing his brow in boredom while her mother was still having a conversation with Hanaka, touching her chin. Still none of them tried to look her away. "It's alright."

Yoongi didn't order the horse to move for a few minutes before a small hum vibrated through his chest, tingling her back. "Very well," he said. He made a clicking noise and the horse began to gallop at a steady pace.

The forest that was considered Moon Clan's territory was an identical stream of teal leaved trees and small wildflowers, clustered amongst light brown mushrooms and wet lands. Kiku enjoyed walking through them purely because it was peace outside of her household.

However, Onyx Clan's territory harboured something so different that it almost felt magical. There were still those collections of teal leaved trees that wafted a sweet scent. Other than that, she saw patches of yellow and pink flowers, flat mushrooms that blushed at the edges and pretty deep green vines that wrapped around dark tree bark.

The sun began peeking a sharp light at the edge of the mountains, making the distant rivers look like melted gold.

The Onyx Clan itself was a beautiful village, with calmly sleeping cows and horses in their stables. Night food stalls open for business as families were out to eat chilli noodles and honeycomb candy. Moon Clan was so used to clean diets and fresh fish that the deep, spiced notes of the stalls overwhelmed Kiku, reminding her even more than she wasn't in her old household anymore.

People of the Onyx Clan gave way when they noticed Yoongi riding into the village. Their faces filled with smiles and excited whispers as they noticed her white dress. A little girl waved shyly at her.

Kiku hesitated but waved back with a faint smile.

As they arrived to the main cluster of houses for the high-born Min family, Kiku saw a group of people waiting for them.

Yoongi jumped off the house with a thud before gently holding onto Kiku again and helping her onto the ground as well. A small set of stairs led up to the cluster of houses.

When they reached, the older woman in centre gave a kind smile. By the way she was dressed in a beautiful silk kimono and the way Yoongi bowed low when seeing her, Kiku knew she was the matriarch of the family. Seeing so much kindness after her grief was something Kiku hadn't prepared herself to expect. So for a moment, she felt lost and unable to respond. She managed to give a wide enough smile.

"Bloody hell, Yoongi, you scared the shit out of her," a young woman from the side chuckled. Not in mockery but just jovial nature.

"Yun," the older woman reprimanded with a serious expression. "Manners." She turned back to Kiku with a smile. "Sorry, my dear, I understand you're in a new place. And our clans haven't had the best relationship but you are family now." She reached out and touched her hand.

Kiku could've been moved to tears at a warm mother's touch but she kept herself strong.

"My name is Hwayoung," she said. "These are my daughters Nari and Yun. I have a son named Yeong but he's away on a trip and will return tomorrow."

Kiku nodded. "It's lovely to meet you."

Hwayoung's flickered to Yoongi. "Let's have dinner and then you both can go rest."

After their dinner concluded and Kiku's belly was warm, they convened back to their bed chambers.

Kiku was given night dresses and also new clothes for the next few days. Especially since her family didn't give her any dress to take except for one.

For a while, the room was left empty with just Kiku watching the fire flicker before skimming through the books laid upon the mantle. It was mostly war and history stories along with some manuals on mastering the sword. Kiku wished she had some books on the Koto to play and fill her days that didn't have to do with having Yoongi's children. But she wasn't sure.

Hwayoung and Yoongi's sisters seemed nice enough but there was no way of telling whether it was a momentary ruse. After all, they couldn't be rude to her in front of everyone. Although a part of Kiku wanted to believe that their kind faces were genuine.

The door then clicked open. Yoongi walked through, wearing a relaxed black silk shirt and his hair tousled as if he had just taken a bath. He closed the door behind him, expression taken aback for a moment as if he hadn't expected someone in his bed chambers before softening.

"Do you have everything you need?" Yoongi asked.

"Yes, thank you." Kiku walked forward to him as he sat at the edge of the bed. She didn't say anything yet but Yoongi's throat bobbed up and down.

Stammering, he said. "We can just sleep."

Kiku blinked curiously. Of all the things she expected, this wasn't one of them. It was relieving that he was kind but to completely let her adjust to the new place was not on the list of expectation. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Yoongi said, keeping his eyes on her. "It's been a long day. We should both rest."

Kiku intertwined her fingers together and nodded, feeling a strange warmth in her chest. "Alright. Good night."

In the morning, Kiku awoke to an empty space in her bed. When one of the maidservants entered to serve her, she explained that Yoongi went out to train early in the morning just before breakfast to keep him awake.

Kiku hoped she didn't look scared to deter him into performing any marital duties. Perhaps throughout the day, she could try to comfort him. She knew what she was getting into.

After taking a warm bath with the maidservant being surprisingly gentle and kind, Kiku was called into breakfast by Hwayoung.

The Min family gathered under a gazebo structure made from black wood. It was round and the food laid out smelled like home in a place that hadn't been her home for a full day yet. Baked fish, soups, rice, fruits for sweetness. It was a spread for something that usually rushed in her family. Or at least Kiku would have to eat quickly.

Kiku sat down next to Yoongi while Yun and Nari continued on their conversation. Yoongi's brother, Yeong came in from his trip and he looked a softer compared to his older brother and smiled often. Usually making jokes with his mother.

Yoongi ate fish and seemed to prefer the soups over rice.

While the others were deep in their conversation, Kiku leaned in slightly. "How was training?" she asked.

Yoongi looked up, again a little shocked but quickly softened. "It was good."

"Yoongi gets quite sore after his training, Kiku," Yun said with a small smirk. "Maybe later in the afternoon, you should give him a massage. Lord knows he needs a good one."

Yoongi glared for a moment but Kiku found it endearing.

"Yun," Hwayoung reprimanded but with a playful air this time rather than the disciplinary one of last night. "Kiku should not be forced to do anything she doesn't want to."

Kiku stammered. "I'm alright with it. I used to give shoulder massages to my brother all the time."

Yoongi cleared his throat. "It's really alright." He nodded.

Kiku smiled politely, lowering her head.

"Perhaps Kiku should come spend the day with us since brother insists on being boring," Yun said.

"I am new here," Kiku said.

"A tour then," Nari said.

Hwayoung perked up. "You can take her down to the markets and get some silks or jewellery. There's lots of music playing there too."

Kiku blinked curiously. "Would there be any Koto players?"

"You like the Koto?" Hwayoung asked.

"My brother taught me how to play." Kiku's heart clenched at the mention of him again. It had been so lovely to be in a place like this. How nice would it have been if their family all spoke so easily to one another.

"That's sweet. How is your brother now?"

"He's passed away," Kiku said.

"I'm sorry, my dear." Hwayoung's eyes turned sad. Both of empathy for her but something else. "I lost my husband a while ago as well. I understand it can feel empty." The table turned quiet for a few moments to remember their father

"Thank you." Kiku's words were simple but Hwayoung didn't fully realise just how much comforting words directed at her. Like a warm, tight hug that she could cry into.

Kiku spent her time walking around with Yun and Nari as they explained all the ins and outs of the clan's main village. They had three smaller towns that used the same supplies and answered to Yoongi as Chief but this was the clan that Yoongi's ancestors had built and it was beautiful.

Nari took her to the bookshop and silk store. Kiku bought herself a pretty purple silk dress while also getting books on poetry that she used to enjoy listening to. A poetess would visit their clan when they were younger and Kaito would work in the shadow puppet shows to re-enact them.

It was one of the few things Kiku was allowed to watch with the family while helping Kaito work with the puppets.

Then they went to the food stalls. Kiku ate spicy dumpling noodles with mushrooms foraged from the forest. Apparently they helped with childbearing as the old woman stated, clearly knowing that it was going to be her who bears the next Chief. Kiku hadn't quite let that sink in but even when she did think about it, it wasn't a horrible thought.

Kiku, Yun and Nari then made their way to the training grounds once their bellies were full and their cheeks hurt from laughing. Kiku hadn't laughed or smiled like this since Kaito made jokes to cheer her up. While they did bicker, Yun and Nari seemed like they were close and loving to one another.

Kiku wondered if Hanaka and her would have ever been like that if their mother didn't get involved so much.

At the centre of the training grounds, Kiku saw Yoongi training with his younger brother Yeong. He spoke instructions for Yeong to follow, keeping one hand behind his back as if to hinder himself from making any strong moves. Yeong kept his hands tight on the hilt of the sword, swinging right against Yoongi's parries as the clang of steel whistled in the air.

Kiku found herself seeing the concentrated scrunch of his dark brows, sharp jawline a little clenched as he parried another attack. His black hair was tied back with chunks of it falling over the frame of his face. "He does this every morning."

Yun hummed. "You like what you see?"

Kiku cleared her throat. "It's nice he's teaching his brother."

"Yeong should focus on his studies too but he keeps running to brother for more training," Nari said. "Yoongi never refuses. He likes training for no reason."

"Ever since father died, brother trains constantly. There's no war but he always says there might be danger," Yun said. "Even with your alliance, he's still weary." Nari quickly nudged her arm and for the first time, Yun felt a little uncomfortable.

Kiku pursed her lips together. She wondered if Yoongi was suspicious that her father would run an attack on them regardless of their alliance. While Kiku was a small risk to lose in the family, her father still may break the deal. She had little trust in her father and wouldn't be surprised if he wishes to prove some kind of point.

As she shifted in and out of her thoughts, Kiku saw Yoongi turn to notice them watching. Notice her watching. Kiku tried to look down at the wrapped silk dress in her arms, hoping it wouldn't look too suspicious. Yoongi turned to tell Yeong to take a break before making his way over to Kiku.

"Looks like your husband wishes to speak to you." Yun smirked, returning to her demeanour as if nothing happened. She pushed Nari towards Yeong to speak to him instead.

Yoongi raised his brow as his sisters rushed away. Beads of sweat had formed on his hairline as he met Kiku's gaze. "They didn't bother you too much?"

Kiku was shocked by what sounded like a genuine question. "No. They were lovely. They showed me around the main town."

"I can see that," Yoongi said before giving his sword away to a servant. "Come with me."

Kiku nodded and followed him out of the training grounds.

They moved from the training grounds back into the cluster of houses where the Min family resided. Yoongi escorted her to their personal house and Kiku wondered whether Yoongi wanted to pursue their marital duties now that he was given time.

It was strange but Kiku's heart pounded not quite out of fear or worry. It was simply curiosity and perhaps even a little excitement. Everything Yoongi had done so far was give her comfort.

As they entered the main house, a beautiful polished Koto stood in the living area.

Kiku's breath caught in her throat as she looked at the Koto which had beautiful ivory finishes and a soft chair to sit on while playing. "Is this for me?" she asked in a low tone.

"You said you used to play Koto. I figured you'd like to play in your free time," Yoongi said. "Your parents didn't pack much for your trip." He shrugged.

Kiku's lips parted as she reached out and touched the Koto. Memories of playing with her brother and learning every note with him burst in her like sweetness. Tears formed a thin gloss on her eyes, as she took a deep breath.

"Is it alright?" Yoongi asked.

"It's perfect," Kiku said. She turned and smiled. "Thank you. You didn't need to do that."

"It was nothing," Yoongi said. "It's your home now too."

Kiku nodded as her heart swelled.

"Also if my mother starts giving you too many lessons, I can get you a secret room."

Kiku let out a small chuckle. "It's okay. I'd like a lesson."

Yoongi pressed his lips together, a hint of a soft smile forming on his features which only made Kiku's heart warm.

Kiku's time in the Onyx Clan was far more pleasant and loving than she ever expected. Before she even realised, four months had passed. Kiku spent days with Yun and Nari, had meals with Hwayoung and then spent a quiet night with Yoongi. It was still innocent between the two of them but she enjoyed those quiet moments sharing things about their day. Yoongi still didn't speak on any personal things and Kiku didn't want to pry on how he got the scar on his eye or about his father's death. But it was still nice.

Kiku nearly forgot that she had another life prior to these few months. It was only when her younger brother, Haruki came to visit the clan. Discomfort returned to her chest, aching and making her twitch. She barely spoke to Haruki and every time they had a conversation, it was malicious. Haruki found joy in insulting her and demanding her to do things as a way to mimic their father.

Kiku reminded herself that she wasn't in that place anymore. This was her home too. She wore her new purple silk dress and pinned her hair up while the servants prepared a tea set on the floor table.

Haruki entered the private house as escorted by the servants. A childish grimace on his face as always but his chest puffed to look like father.

Kiku kept sited at the table.

Haruki stood over her for a few moments as if waiting for her to stand. "You wouldn't bother to see your brother at the border."

"You've come at a busy hour," Kiku said. Truthfully, she wanted to be in the warm comfort of her home to breathe easy and hide her shaking fingers. "What did you need?"

Haruki scoffed and sat down, tapping the side of the teacup. "Father's dead."

Kiku had little love for her father but she still sit in a moment of silence, unable to know what do with the news. "What happened?"

"We need more supplies," Haruki said, ignoring her question.

It was courtesy anyway so she didn't ask again. "The Moon clan has spare granaries for those occasions."

"We have an alliance." Haruki eyed her up and down. "I'd expect you to tend to it since you're clearly not tending to any children."

"What happened to the granaries, Haruki?" Kiku asked, emphasising his name.

Haruki pursed her lips, keeping his eyes on her gaze and waiting for her to look down. When she didn't, Haruki's face twitched. "We'd been using it."

"For what?"

"That's none of your concern," Haruki said.

"So not emergencies then," Kiku said.

"You can't speak to me that way." Haruki chuckled bitterly.

"I'm the Lady of this territory and your older sister, I can speak to you in whatever tone is necessary." Kiku narrowed her gaze. "What happened?"

Haruki tightened his jaw like a stubborn child. "We'd been taking from it for the banquets. Father and mother celebrated a lot because you were gone."

"And after brother's death," Kiku said.

"Don't talk about brother."

"He was my brother too. More a brother than you ever were."

Poison laced in his voice. "Kaito spent time with you because he felt bad for you. You were this pathetic thing crouching around everywhere. The only time people said anything nice about you was in order to fuck you. Don't pretend you were someone special to him or Yoongi." Haruki gestured to the door. "He's not even willing to put a baby in you." He chuckled.

"I don't appreciate being spoken for, Chief Min," Yoongi's deep voice shook through the room.

Haruki turned his head, expression turning sour.

Yoongi walked into the house, shadows forming harsh lines on his face as something dark flashes across his expression. For a moment, he looked like the exact nightmarish image of what the Moon clan thought of the Min family. Even barefooted steps added a heavy echo in the air that it sent chills down her own spine despite the fact she knew this demeanour wasn't for her intimidation. "You can have your supplies at the border."

Haruki deflated as if letting out a sigh of relief. "I should've gone to you first then, Chief. It seems I expected too much of my silly sister." He gave a triumphant smile to her.

"Of course, she made the mistake of thinking you were far too competent." Yoongi intertwined his fingers together, veined and hardened from training.

Haruki's expression turned again, cheeks reddening. "Excuse me?"

"Don't worry, I won't make that mistake." The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Perhaps we'll have a charity basket at the border."

Haruki stood to his feet quickly, shaking and trembling like a little boy. "You go too far."

"Do I? Because it seems as if you've come here asking for more than the agreed alliance and proceeding to disrespect my wife," Yoongi said. "The way I see it, giving you a charity basket is more mercy than you deserve currently. I suggest you take it quietly."

Haruki had all the inflated confidence their parents bloated into him from childhood. If he was even the slightest bit stupider, he would speak and in a brief second of that stupidity, he almost did. But then he glared at Kiku. "You'd let him talk to your family like that?"

Anger spread through her chest. Now he wanted to be family, when it benefited him. "If only you were true family then perhaps not."

Haruki grimaced, giving a softer glare to Yoongi before turning on his heel and stomping out of the house.

Kiku let out a deep, shaky breath as her spine began to ache from the tension. She closed her eyes and tried to catch her calm again, taking the scent of wood and warmth in her comfortable home. She heard Yoongi moving until she heard his hum right at her ear.

"Quite the unpleasant family you have," Yoongi mused.

Kiku couldn't help but let out a small, saddened chuckle. "Kaito was the only good one."

Yoongi turned and sat down next to her, shoulders pressed.

The heaviness gave Kiku a wave of comfort like the way his breath hit the back of his neck when they slept.

"If he comes again, I'll ask the guards to delegate him to me or my mother," Yoongi said. "There's no need for you to speak to them if you don't want to."

"You won't be burdened by them?" Kiku asked, turning her head and finding his face incredibly close.

"No one should speak like that to you especially not in our own house." Yoongi waved his hand.

Kiku smiled as her heart burst into little butterflies, creating a lump in her throat. She leaned in and pressed a small kiss on his cheek.

Yoongi turned his head just as Kiku was pulling away, their noses brushed against each other. Dark eyes pierced into her, keeping her still in her position even though her body ached for how close they were. Yoongi kissed her lips, shyly at first to help her adjust to the action.

The tantalizing warmth that passed through Kiku pushed her to lean into the kiss, cupping his cheek. Yoongi's hands held onto her lower back pulling her close until she was pressed flush against his chest.

His lips were hot against hers, keeping his grip on her firm but so soft and gentle. Yoongi only broke the kiss for a moment as Kiku caught a deep breath before pressing her lips again. She gripped onto the fabric of his shirt until Yoongi pulled her enough for her to straddle him completely.

Yoongi held her face in his hand, pausing their kiss again to move his lips down to her neck and jawline. Every ache that she felt from her encounter with Haruki melted away at his touch. He pulled at the pins of her hair, letting it fall down the trail of her back. His fingers traced the length of her spine, making her shiver. Tongue grazed over the soft spot on her neck as her hips began to sway against his own.

Yoongi let out a small groan, lifting his head up. His chest heaved in desperation, gripping onto her hair and keeping their foreheads pressed together.

Kiku reached in again but Yoongi kept her in place.

"Are you sure?" Yoongi asked in a rasped voice that made her tremble.

Kiku nodded. "I'm sure." She reached in and kissed him again, deeper and pleading to ensure he knew this was what she wanted.

But a knock on the door startled them.

Yoongi let out a small, frustrated sigh. "What is it?" he asked.

Kiku got off his lap slowly with a clear of her throat, trying to fix her hair as the door opened to a servant.

"Sorry, sire. Your mother needs your audience for something." The servant kept their head bowed as if already knowing the position he could've caught them in.

Yoongi turned and gave Kiku a soft look.

Kiku gave a reassuring smile, patting his arm before he got to his feet and walked away. Leaving her heart pounding manically.

Another week passed since their kiss. Yoongi wasn't distant necessarily but it did feel like nothing changed. Kiku wondered perhaps he didn't enjoy it. He was the Chief and had many choices of his own. Kiku was an alliance marriage. Any affection that they developed may have just been a spur of the moment as they lived under the same roof. Despite all the explanations she's made in her head, it still twinged something in Kiku. With the kindness received from Yoongis family, she imagined that something would be wrong. She traded a kinder family for a husband that didn't quite enjoy her affection. She'd take it though.

This morning, the family sat around the table for breakfast. Yoongi gave her a glance here and there but it was still distant. Kiku tried to smile back but he immediately looked away.

"So Kiku has been immensely calm these past few days," Yun said, a smirk playing on her lips. "Ma says it's often a sign of...something on the way." Her eyes flickered down to gesture to her stomach.

Kiku's cheeks burned, stammering. "No, it's not that." She shook her head. "I had my bleeding." She couldn't quite hide the slight disappointment in her tone. Kiku never thought about children especially with the experiences she had with her own family. But something about the silence from Yoongi made grasp at unnecessary desires of children or anything to melt off the ice between them.

Yun hummed, pouting. "That's a shame, I wanted nieces and nephews." She poked at her food, the light breeze making strands of her dark hair dance.

"Don't pressure them," Nari said, her tone serious. "They need to be relaxed when they do it."

"Girls, quiet." Hwayoung narrowed her gaze, letting out a defeated sigh. "Don't listen to them." She smiled. "These things take time."

Yoongi stayed silent and Kiku herself couldn't find anything to say but give a reassuring smile. Even though she worried Yoongi won't come near her a second time.

Kiku played her Koto in the afternoon while Yoongi was out supervising the patrol. Usually it would take him till evening to come back. But today he came in early, stomping and breathing out with frustration. A strange sight from someone who was so calm. Raven black hair glistened from sweat, patches of dust latched onto his skin and his jaw terribly tightened as if it might make break his teeth.

Strangely enough, it was relieving to see some emotion in Yoongi after all the distance. Kiku stood from the Koto. "What's wrong?" She asked gently.

"Your damn brother," he seethed. "His men attacked one of my scouts." Yoongi poured water into a goblet and chugged it.

Kiku's heart dropped. "What?"

"Apparently they'd been disturbing the peace. But they didn't plan for me to come." His scar looked deeper and darker when he was angry. "Mother was weary about them for a while but I didn't think they'd stoop to petty little violence."

Kiku lowered her head, almost in shame. Even though she felt more connected to Yoongi's family, her name and identity was still attached to the people she grew up with. It was embarrassing seeing others witness the pettiness that she endured her whole life. The same pettiness that Kaito hated. "I'm sorry," she said.

Yoongi stilled for a moment, dark brows furrowed as he turned to Kiku. "Why're you apologizing?"

Kiku stammered. "It's my family. They're like this, our parents made you all seem like monsters and Haruki would do anything to make himself feel like father would be proud." She shook her head.

"Well, that's their mistake, not yours." Yoongi spoke under her breath but Kiku clung to every word and kept it close to her chest.

She reached out and touched his arm. "Is there anything I can do?"

Yoongi stared at her deeply and so long that Kiku felt like layers of her soul were being peeled. Then he broke the gaze and tried to walk back to their bedroom. "No, it's okay."

Kiku's stomach clenched as once again, the ice began to form. But this time she wasn't going relent quietly. "Yoongi, you don't have to protect my feelings. If this is too much of a burden to you then I can leave."

Yoongi stopped, looking over his shoulder to her. The expression on his face, harsh. "What?"

Kiku dug her nails into her palms to give herself some form of strength. "I can handle my family, I've lived with them my whole life. But...I don't want you to be married to someone you don't truly want."

Yoongi's throat bobbed up and down. "Is that what you think?"

"I don't know," she spoke honestly. "I just know that you became distant after what happened and I—I'm unsure."

Yoongi fully turned his body around, stepping closer. "If you're unsure, then you talk to me."

"I can't speak my wishes so easily." Kiku's voice lowered as he moved closer until she could catch wafts of the forest from him. "It's not something I'm used to."

Yoongi's expression softened. He rubbed in between his brows. "I'm a little too used to my family just saying what they think." He looked up to her. "I'm sorry. I should've checked on you."

Kiki's stomach felt warm. staying silent for a moment just to ensure what she heard was right. Then she spoke in a small voice. "It's okay."

Yoongi took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers together turning her world into a burst of stars. "I will not make you go back to that place again." He muttered. "I want you here."

"You want me here?" She asked again, just to hear him say it so it could echo inside her whenever darker voices grew too loud.

"Right here. With me." Yoongi tightened his hold. "Will you do that?"

Kiku nodded, a burning behind her eyes. "I will, I promise." She smiled, touching his chest to make herself feel grounded again.

"We still need to deal with your stupid brother," Yoongi said. "He's quickly turning into a pest than an ally."

Kiku could spend years imagining Haruki as this invincible monster, similar to when they were children. But this was real now. Haruki wasn't Kaito. He was stupid and petty even when he tried to hurt her. There were a million ways to get rid of people like that. "I might have an idea."

As Kiku requested, Yoongi organized a meeting at the border between Onyx and Moon territory. A canopy was erected with a floor table where they all sat together. The edge of dawn painted the mountains and tree in a burnished gold and the scent of morning dew was the only comfort in Kiku's pool of anxiety.

She was prepared for this meeting and the decisions entailed but rarely had she spoken up to Haruki before. When Kiku tried, her mother or father would reprimand and punish her.

Even as Haruki walked to the canopy, she felt a prickle of being scolded in a few minutes. But she had push it down. She wasn't Haruki's sister here, she was a Lady of the Onyx Clan. The Chief's wife.

"This pompous meeting surely isn't about the little scuffle between scouts," Haruki said. "It's a bit of harmless fun."

Yoongi stayed silent.

"You brought your wife here too," Haruki looked Kiku up and down, making sure that he used a moniker disconnected to him.

"In regards to your previous demands, we're suggesting some changes in the alliance." Yoongi kept a calm tone even though Kiku saw the tightened grip of his hands.

Haruki chuckled. "If you don't want her anymore, just kick her out." He waved his hand. "One of your servants can have her."

Yoongi narrowed his gaze but kept his neutral expression. "As you commented on our child before, we had an idea on how to strength the bond between clans."

"And how is that?" he asked.

"Since you require our food supplies which we give to you out of kindness, we have a compromise," Yoongi said. "In exchange for our food, any child born from my wife will take the Chiefs title of the Moon clan."

Haruki's brows furrowed as his chest heaved. His glare turned to Kiku. "You put him up to this, didn't you, you bitch?"

"It was a joint decision," Kiku said, maintaining her calm demeanour. She was used to his insults. She wouldn't let it hurt her again.

"I won't agree to this, it's stupid." Haruki winced.

"Very well," Yoongi said. "Then I suggest you get your defences ready."

"What?"

"Your father must've told you how the Onyx Clan works." Yoongi began to muse and there was something... oddly satisfying about the tone. "My wolves haven't been out for a feed in a while."

"You'd attack your ally?" Haruki asked.

"Attacking my scout and disrespecting the Chiefs wife constitutes that you are breaking every rule in the alliance," Yoongi said and Haruki stayed quiet. "Giving you an alternate compromise is a mercy. I suggest you consider it. My soldiers won't care if you're a spoiled Chief who can't carry a sword properly."

Haruki grimaced, chin quivering in frustration. He looked over at Kiku, as if trying to get ready for another insult but he knew it was too late. Kiku was no longer the target to point insults at. One wrong move and Haruki loses his head along with the Moon Clan. This way they can keep their lives. Haruki was stupid but he was still too scared to die. "Fine. I accept your terms."

Yoongi hummed. "Thank you." He stood up and held onto Kiku's hand, helping her to her feet.

"What would've Kaito said about you turning your back on family?" Haruki asked, cutting into her in a place that ached like a thousand knives.

Kiku paused in place, gripping onto Yoongi's hand like her life depended on it as her heart panged in pain. Haruki knew nothing about what Kaito was like. It took her every strength and hope in her body not to throw scalding tea in his face for even insinuating that Kiku would do something to disappoint Kaito. Because Kaito wasn't like that. Kaito understood and listened. Haruki was a fool. Kiku straightened her posture, turned and looked Haruki straight in the eye. "Kaito wouldn't have caused a food shortage in the clan."

Haruki scoffed, pursing his lips together.

"Kaito did his duty, as I am. From where I'm looking, I'm not the one who made father die from disappointment." Kiku felt like a dam burst inside her as she let the words flow but seeing the Haruki's sour and pouty expression made it all worth it.

Kiku was able to breathe easy when they returned to their tent for the night. She walked over to her vanity and her maid immediately began taking pins out of her hair. She watched from the mirror as Yoongi unlatched his sword sheathe of his waist and began to pour himself a drink. The dark furrow of his brows prominent. Kiku raised a hand and smiled at the maid. "A moment, please."

The maid bowed and did as she asked, stepping out of the tent to give them privacy. Kiku took out the rest of the pins so her hair was fully open and relaxed. A dull throb formed on her scalp. She stood and made her way to Yoongi as he leaned forward on the table.

"He can be a lot to tolerate," Kiku said.

Yoongi took in a deep breath to calm himself down. "The way he talks to you, it's like you're complete strangers. Enemies, even."

Kiku swallowed the small lump in her throat. It was always normal to her, seeing the way family treated the one they didn't want with the exception of Kaito. But Yoongi valued family with his life. She could only imagine the kind of shock thrumming through him. "You have a good family. Some don't." She touched his arm. "But sometimes you find a better one."

Yoongi turned his head, his once sharp eyes now softened and sad. "If I've ever made you feel—"

"Not once." Kiku knew it like the breath she took. Yoongi and his family had been nothing but comforting and kind. She reached and pressed her forehead against his. It was almost involuntary but feeling him lean into it was the only answer she needed to keep still.

Yoongi turned his body slowly, letting their chest flush against one another before he leaned and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. His warm hand cupped her cheek softly like she was precious. He pulled away only to press kisses on her cheek and jawline, taking her into an embrace. He buried his face into the crook of her neck where the scent of jasmines wafted in his nose.

Kiku could fall asleep in this embrace. Her body and mind and every bruise in her heart soothed from the loving touch. She traced her fingers across the strands of his hair as if lulling the both of them to dreams. It was difficult to admit it in the past few months with the new changes and confusion. But today for the first time, she could surely say it.

Kiku felt loved.

The meeting had left Kiku and Yoongi tired for the evening. They rested their heads, nestled close as they tried to sleep. Tried was an effort Kiku persisted on as the hours went by. It wasn't quite a terrible night of troubling thoughts but an eagerness. She opened her eyes to see Yoongi with his eyes calmly closed, his lips a little puckered.

Kiku took a moment to watch him, reaching out a little to touch his cheek. He stirred slightly at her touch, but his eyes remained closed, his breathing steady and rhythmic. She pulled away with a defeated sigh, not wanting to wake him up. So she turned around and tried to drift off to sleep again.

It was only a few minutes later then she felt Yoongi shift, moving closer until his chest was pressed right against her back. His arm laid over her body, embracing her from behind. Kiku felt a wave of warmth and comfort wash over her as Yoongi tightened his hold.

"Can't sleep?" Yoongi asked.

Kiku hummed. "A little. It's okay, go back to sleep."

"I can be awake," Yoongis voice rasped as his face buried into the crook of her neck again. He began pressing kissing down the length of her shoulder. "Do you want me to be awake?"

Kiku smiled to herself, swaying her hips against him. "A little."

Yoongi chuckled lightly, the vibrations made her quiver in delight. He made Kiku lay on her back, climbing on top of her and sneaking between her legs. "Are you sure?" He whispered.

Kiku nodded. "I'm sure." She smiled against his lips before pressing a kiss on his bottom lip.

Yoongi kissed down the length of her neck, unravelling his night clothes and pushing up Kikus soft dress. He entered her gently, her snug walls hugging his tip before he kept pushing.

Kiku gripped onto his clothing as the sensation made her tremble under him. She swayed her hips with his movements, encouraging him to move faster. The ache was slight but the tingle of pleasure sent her into a slight dizziness. She wrapped her legs around his waist.

Yoongi brushed his fingers across her hairline, full of affection as he moved deeper inside her. He pressed sweet kisses at the corner of her lips.

Kiku smiled feverishly as the pleasure sent heat through her body, radiating like steam and intoxication.

Yoongi made sure he was slow, not just to be careful but to draw out this intimacy for as long as he could. The feeling of embrace brought back every slight desire he had in the past few months to hold or touch her. "Feel good?"

Kiku nodded, letting out a slight whimper as he continued to move at that tantalizing pace. "Good." She traced her thumb across his cheek. Strands of his hair falling over his face, curtaining over hers. Her core became slick with arousal, creating light squelch sounds as he thrusted into her with a new desperation.

His release clouded him, flooding him with an unbearable warmth until he grind himself into her. He muffled his moan against her neck.

Kiku felt his lower belly press on her sensitive spot, making her clench around him, pushing him further into his climax.

Yoongi lifted himself up, foreheads layered with sweat as they pressed against each other.

Kiku took his lips into a kiss, surging him to thrust into a steady pattern that made her lose breath. She gripped onto the side of his neck as moans broke through any form of whisper.

Yoongi quickened his pace following the pattern of her moans and the rolling of his own release. Then the sweet burst into a ricochet of pleasure and heat.

Kiku smiled, breathless as she relished in the warmth filling her. As Yoongi kept moving, he snuck his head in between her legs, targeting her sensitive spot and pushing her to the edge. Kiku's brows furrowed, aching to reach her own climax as she was full of him. Her breathing turned to quickened whimpers as she squirmed under his touch. Her back arched, head thrown back giving Yoongi the chance to kiss her neck and jawline.

Her climax bloomed, the heat of it shaking her limbs and forcing her legs to shut around him. Yoongi kissed her forehead, still rubbing on that spot until she twitched against it.

Kiku whimpered, pushing his hand away. A small laugh left his lips fuelling her with more delight. It was the most wonderful feeling she had to be embraced like this so warmly and the bliss of pleasure melting her body until she was meshed with the bed itself.

"You feel sleepier now?" Yoongi watched her with his own half-lidded, blissed eyes.

Kiku smiled as her breathing turned slow and calm. "Mhm." She traced her fingers down his cheek. "I think I've officially become your wife."

"Oh?" Yoongi's brow raised. "You weren't before?"

Kiku chuckled, slapping his chest playfully. "I mean we don't have anything to hide anymore."

Yoongi caged her in with his arms, making her feel safe and secure. "No, we don't."

Kiku blinked slowly, her finger moved gently to his scar. "Like this?"

Yoongi's expression softened into a mix of ruminating vulnerability and an old sadness that had been repeatedly reminisced. He lay down next to her, shoulders pressed flush. "My father and I go on small trips every now and then. He used to do it with every child, just to. . .talk, connect with nature and spend time." He waved his hand. "It was strange for Chiefs to do it but he said it was because he never got to speak to his own father. So, he wanted to make sure we weren't. . .without one." He let out a long breath.

"He sounds like a good father," Kiku said.

"He was." Yoongi's dark eyes melted and glossed from emotion. "One day though, bandits were prowling in the place my father and I camped. They attacked us. I got this from one of the bandits." He pointed to the scar. "Before my father told me to run while he fended them off. I called my mother and some guards to help but we were too late."

Kiku shifted and rubbed his chest. "Is that why you train so much?"

Yoongi nodded. "I want to make sure Yeong and the girls know how to defend themselves or others should the need arise." He took a deep breath, playing with Kiku's hair. "But I had a good family. We took care of each other, just like we'll take care of you."

Kiku smiled, resting her chin on his chest. "I'll take care of you all too. I still owe you a massage."

"You gave me a pretty good one a minute ago." Yoongi smirked.

Kiku chuckled. "A proper massage."

Kiku and Yoongi returned to the main houses early in the morning as the soft gold of dawn painted the forest. Hwayoung had lunch prepared with the rest of the family to welcome them home. Fresh steamed fish with tofu, rice porridge and some fresh fruits newly picked from the farms. Kiku ate happily, her appetite had grown in the months she was with this family but it made her all the more energetic and vibrant along with her excitement from the past night's events.

Something the family noticed more than Kiku realised.

Yun, in particular, stared the two of them a little too closely with a smirk. "So how was the trip, brother?" She asked in a sing-song voice.

Yoongi's eyes flickered up as he paused mid-bite. "As most political talks go with a spoiled brat of a Chief. He gave into the deal quickly," he spoke in a slightly formal tone.

Kiku quietly sipped on the last drops of her tea before he gently poured her another cup. She gave him a shy smile.

"I haven't heard much about the prospects of the Chiefs of the Moon clan but the younger son is usually unprepared," Hwayoung said thankfully to distract from what Yun actually wanted to ask.

Yeong stammered just as he took a bite of his food, looking at Hwayoung with a pout. "What'd I do?"

Hwayoung raised her hand. "I mean, generally. Not you."

Yoongi let out a small chuckle under his breath. "She means you."

Yeong sighed, pointing at him with his chopsticks. "I've beaten you in sword training before, I'll do it again."

"Did you do anything else in the trip?" Yun asked, with a wide grin, leaning forward in excitement. "You were both alone for the night. And Kiku's been. . .glowing."

Kiku's cheeks burned, clearing her throat. "I—I don't—"

"You need to stop obsessing over your brother's marriage, sweetheart, it's getting strange." Hwayoung patted the back of Yun's hand.

"It's only because you don't let me get married." Yun leaned back on her chair, folding her arms over her chest.

"Mother's protecting the men of the clan," Nari said, raising a brow.

Yun slapped Nari's arm as Yeong snorted.

"See how they bully me?" Yun asked Kiku.

Kiku chuckled, biting down her bottom lip and glancing at Yoongi. Often when she had terrible encounters with Haruki, she would get scolded by her family and live with the suffocating feeling of frustration in her chest.

Today was the first time, Kiku could cling to the happy moments and forget about Haruki or any of this harsh words. Her family threw her to the Onyx clan like a bait at the end of a fishing line but in their hatred for her, Kiku found love for her own.

masterlist

#yoongi #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagines #yoongi fanfiction #bts arranged marriage au #bts x oc #yoongi x oc

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arandomperson5647 · 8 months

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Encanto info from Jared Bush's Q&As

This is a little place where you can find (hopefully) a lot of info Jared has said in his Q&As. This is if you wanna check smth and don't wanna go on a hunt to confirm it since it's been so long. Idk if I got everything, I highly doubt I did, so if you have a piece of info I don't have and have a link to it, I can edit it on. Ngl I'm also kinda doing this for myself cuz I was curious to know everything he's told us. I'll mostly summarize the answer so it isn't longer than it needs to be, but I'll also copy+paste if I'm too lazy.

The info here kinda varies from interesting, to obvious stuff, to potentially pointless but really any of it can be used to do whatever.

Some of the answers he provided aren't concrete solid ("I think __ would happen", "I always thought ___", etc), so take this all with a grain of salt. I'll try to phrase the uncertain ones differently so you know they're not 100% (probably, possibly, might, etc). If the answer he gives is completely up to interpretation, then I won't include it. Some might be repeated cuz I don't feel like looking back to see if he answered the same question twice.

Just to warn you guys before you click "keep reading", this is a LONG post, so if you don't want it fill up your page, don't click it unless you really wanna read everything.

Antonio's Birthday Q&A #2 (5/21/23)

Canon universe:

Dolores never truly believed Bruno was still around. She heard stuff, but everyone told her he was gone, so she thought she was imagining things. "I knew he never left" was her way of saying "I shouldn't have doubted myself."

Antonio was a shy kid and animals are were easier for him to make friends with.

The potteries in Bruno's room were because it was fairly public for people who want visions, so they're probably a nod to that.

When Pedro went to the attackers when he died, he was planning to reason with them.

Luisa's associated with donkeys because they’re beasts of burden and that’s how everyone treated her.

Mirabel has her embroidery because she loves her family, but potentially also because she subconsciously want to make sure the villagers know despite having no gift she is every bit a Madrigal.

Isabela might potentially secretly like Pepa's chaos.

Julieta's really good at hiding her feelings about the pressure of being the town's healer, but she's also a naturally strong person.

There's a reason why Bruno's single but Jared didn't tell us.

Bruno's favorite food is Ajiaco, but potentially also big butt ants.

Julieta probably noticed Mirabel wasn't in the pic at Antonio's ceremony immediately after it was taken, but Mirabel had already left by then.

For a while, Bruno's limit for future seeing was until the fall of Castia, but now it's limitless.

Alma didn't necessarily approve of Agustín at first because he wasn't overly spectacular or confident.

Mirabel and Camilo got along well when they were young, but after Mirabel's ceremony, Camilo felt more pressure to perform and show off.

Even before his gift, Bruno probably worried and wondered about the future, which is what caused his gift.

The Madrigals mostly assumed Bruno had somehow left the Encanto after his disappearance.

The birth of the miracle happened near the turn of the 20th century, and Antonio's ceremony was 50 years later.

The 5th birthdays for the Madrigals is the big one. The others are "regular".

Camilo often annoys Isabela for fun and also because he's a bit envious of her. They're kinda opposite, perfect vs a clown.

The post-movie relationship between Mirabel and Isabela is probably mischevious.

Bruno probably already was breaking from pressure when Isabela was only in single digits.

Alma was loving to all her grandchildren, but sometimes it felt conditional due to her expectations. She wasn't self-aware enough to realize.

Félix can play the tiple, but not shown in the film.

Agustín and Félix probably wore their respective colors before marrying their respective wives. Their colors are also a nod to regionality.

Alma might've seen cracks before Mirabel saw them at Antonio's ceremony (not at the moment tho), giving her a reason to actually believe Mirabel and pray to Pedro.

Based off the book "Mystery in the Rainforest", Dolores and Mariano are engaged and planning a wedding soon.

There is a school in the Encanto, but since it's closed off and was formed in the beginning of the 20th century, new info would cease.

Pedro might've been the one to know sewing and embroidery. He taught it to Alma, who taught Julieta and Mirabel. She probably taught others but Mirabel did it the most.

Bruno's door might've started glowing again during his vision in Antonio's room because Mirabel is making him feel included in the family (and therefore Casita) again.

The Madrigals do have friends groups, just not shown.

Camilo's gift can be tiring. Like an actor playing their part.

Mirabel probably would've had a negative or even traumatic impact from the fall of Castia, mostly due to a near death experience.

The Madrigals have never tested their gifts beyond the Encanto, so it's still a mystery on what happens.

Antonio probably can talk to animals from different countries, not just Colombia.

Camilo sometimes tries to impress everyone with his gift.

Mirabel's birthday became "stressful" ever since her 5th.

Isabela would probably help Antonio decorate his room with crazy plants.

Behind the scenes:

5/21 is Afro-Colombian Day, which is why that's Antonio's bday.

There used to be a deleted scene of Mirabel getting grounded by Casita.

The Guzmans originally had the same number of family members as the Madrigals, and each member was like a doppelgänger of each gifted Madrigal child, except Mirabel, who was represented in the Guzman family by a goat.

There used to be a scene where Camilo's gift goes haywire at night or smth (can't figure out the full pic for this one).

Writers considered early on that Mirabel would want to leave, but they decided that from a character and cultural perspective, leaving her family would have been the absolute worst thing she could imagine.

It's never been established how long the ceremony doors appear before the ceremony, but 9 months has been considered.

Early versions would show that Alma had strict parents. It may or may not be true now, but it would make sense.

Mirabel used to have a gap in her teeth to show her quirkiness, but was removed because they wanted to show it in other ways.

Encanto Disney+ Hollywood Bowl Q&A (12/28/22)

Cannon universe:

Emotions can sometimes affect Bruno's visions.

Camilo often helped take care of babies even before Antonio's birth. He was just naturally good with them.

The stairs in Bruno's room probably grew as he became more distanced, so they probably lessened when Casita came back.

Luisa's favorite sister is probably Mirabel.

Camilo would probably sometimes be happy that Isabela found her true self, while also a bit jealous. It depends on the moment.

The Madrigals' reaction to someone entering the Encanto would probably be chaotic.

As a way to protect them, Alma was always a little strict on her family.

Julieta and Agustín often worried how Mirabel was doing, especially for Antonio's ceremony.

Alma tried to show she loved Mirabel in her own way after her ceremony and before the movie.

Camilo's experience being the only boy in the house for a while was...interesting. Not the easiest.

Pepa and Dolores' gifts have caused some difficulties between the two.

Especially post-movie, Bruno, Agustín and Félix would be a ridiculous trio.

The candle is now gone, but a new miracle took its place.

Félix and Mirabel have a good relationship, especially post-movie.

Isabela's 5th birthday was the first gift ceremony for the grandchildren.

Bruno was probably superstitious before moving in the walls.

Before the house fell, Alma probably wouldn't like Dolores marrying Mariano. After, she'd accept it.

The other Madrigals might have hidden potential in their gifts, much like Isabela did.

The townspeople mostly either put the Madrigals on a high pedestal or see them as equals.

Isa probably had at least one flower she'd intentionally give Mirabel allergies with.

Bruno was probably a bit popular at one point.

Adopted Madrigal kids that were 6+ would probably still get a gift.

Mirabel's near-sighted.

Camilo's probably gotten in trouble for his disguises at times.

Bruno's mostly a rat guy because he's around them the most.

Pepa has a sweet tooth but doesn't let her self have too much due to her weather.

Isabela can grow trees and crops.

There's no definite reason why Isa was the favorite grandchild, but being the eldest didn't help.

When Alma said "the magic is strong, and so are the drinks", she was really trying to get everyone back to the party.

The gifts can tire out the Madrigals if used a lot, sometimes physical pain can occur.

Alma might have siblings, but it's not confirmed.

Behind the scenes:

There used to be a scene of Mirabel getting grounded. Idk if it's the same scene as the previous one mentioned, but the context of the question might suggest otherwise. ("What would've happened to Mirabel if she was found after the dinner?")

There were versions in the end credits of everyone reuniting with Bruno.

There is potential for a Madrigal with OCD, autism, etc, but not yet confirmed.

Triplet's Birthday Q&A (8/17/23)

Cannon universe:

Bruno and the grandkids now watch telenovelas together.

Julieta's favorite food is probably ajiaco.

Mirabel's first word would potentially be "sita" because she loved Casita but couldn't say the full word.

Dolores' room has a lot of soundproofing.

The reason Mirabel seems to interact with Castia the most out of the Madrigals is because she was mostly an outsider, with only Casita to talk to.

Encanto is a hidden place, so simply finding it is near impossible.

There are respected town elders in Encanto, but Alma is considered the founder.

Pedro said something to Alma before he died, potentially in Spanish, but it's not confirmed what.

In terms of personality, Mirabel is the closest to Pedro.

For adoptive kids, Casita may be able to anticipate the arrival of someone new even before the family is consciously aware of it, giving them a new door.

Bruno's a fan of chocolate.

Mirabel loves every color. She has no known favorite.

Julieta got married first between her and Pepa.

Bruno's rats aren't sentient like humans, so Bruno would have to train them to do whatever.

It's possible another Madrigal felt resentment towards Bruno after he left.

Julieta's gift possibly only works with a combo of cooking and giving, but not confirmed.

Bruno learned how to use his gift through practice and invented customs. It was complicated.

Julieta probably needs to know the person's injury before healing it.

The majority of the Madrigals' dominate hands are right. Julieta and Antonio are left handed. Luisa is ambidextrous. It's unsure, but Mirabel is potentially left handed.

Mirabel's favorite food is arepa con queso.

Antonio's favorite snack is nailed rice.

Agustín and Félix have jobs in the town, but not confirmed what.

In a book, it was mentioned that Bruno was the golden child of the family. He probably fell from that position in his late teens.

Agustín's favorite meal from Julieta is chocolate santafereño.

Gifts can possibly be repeated, but not in the same generation.

The refugees/townspeople had brought everything from home they used to start farming when the Encanto formed.

Isabela and Mariano still have a good relationship after the movie. Neither were too wild about the engagement.

The bedrooms can change if their owner wants them to.

The gift ceremonies will now be different without a candle.

Madrigals still do the traditional quinceañera.

The Encanto doesn't have electricity.

Bruno has left the walls a few times for a break.

Isabela will probably keep switching up her outfit now that she can.

Luisa has always felt protective of Mirabel.

Behind the scenes:

Casita used to have shown that it has only 1 bathroom, which was located in the back right corner under Bruno's tower.

There was a deleted scene where Julieta yelled at Alma in front of the entire town after Mirabel went missing.

Julieta is the one singing w/ Mirabel during the "constellations glow/the seasons change in turn" lyric.

There used to be a version of Bruno using water with his vision.

The line said by Mirabel, "Even in our darkest moments there's light where you least expect it" was cut after Lin Manuel Miranda wrote Dos Oruguitas and the emotional thrust of Mirabel’s words needed to evolve to encompass what she’d just learned.

There was a Waiting on a Miracle reprise that was cut because they felt they didn't need it.

The concept of a new door appearing was considered to start with the doorknob.

No one intervened during Alma and Mirabel's argument because the writers felt that it was Mirabel's moment to shine.

VERY early on, Bruno (then known as Oscar) was Mirabel's estranged cousin.

Indestructibility was a gift they wanted to use. It was actually Pepa's original gift.

Dolores' Birthday Q&A (8/31/22)

Cannon universe:

People in Isabela's position wouldn't really have the chance to have authentic relationships because they're hiding their true self. This could potentially apply to Isa herself.

Before Mirabel's ceremony, her family was excited for her. After, the family’s ability to see Mirabel clearly was too obscured by their unhealthy dynamics but were probably unaware of that until Mirabel brought it to light.

Bruno's oversized clothing was by personal preference, potentially because of his awkward nature.

Before Isabela showed up in Bruno's vision, another person was there, who is possibly a young Alma. While not confirmed, it is implied in Jared's answer.

Félix and Agustín already had gifts, just not in a way that others could see.

Isabela lets herself break the rules, so while not confirmed, it's possible she could recreate mythical plants.

The town probably functions like a combination of where everyone came from.

The triplets used to have little meetings in Bruno's room when they were little.

Behind the scenes:

There used to be a scene where Bruno revealed he had a secret elevator in his room.

Agustín's Birthday Q&A (6/19/22)

Cannon universe:

Part of what fuels the miracle is unconditional love. When Mirabel and Isa showed that during What Else can I Do?, it affected the magic.

Julieta often gives people the food they like rather than something random.

For a long time, Isabela was the favorite grandchild for Alma. Before her ceremony, Mirabel was. After Casita's rebuild, many dynamics changed.

Agustín was born in the Encanto, but his family was from a city, so he was raised with the city-vibe.

Luisa's favorite food is bandeja paisa.

Every gift can be affected by emotions in some way.

Casita probably helped Bruno hide, but not confirmed.

If Mirabel and Bruno decided to leave the Encanto after Casita fell, the entire family would've fallen apart.

The only people in the Encanto were the ones who traveled with Alma. They all got there at the same time, no one got in or out.

Behind the scenes:

There used to be an exit for Bruno's wall room behind the family tree, but it wasn't used.

Antonio's Birthday Q&A (5/21/22)

Cannon universe:

Mirabel's canonically 5'2.

Mirabel has good relationships with Pepa and Félix. Félix loves everyone and likes hanging out with pretty much anybody. Pepa is a good tia, she’s just very emotional, but for most of the movie (and her life before) felt she had to bottle her emotions which only made them worse.

Bruno probably doesn't need the sand for visions, but as time went on he added his own superstitions.

The color of the magic in the end changed. It wasn't the color of the candle anymore, but the colors of Mirabel. What that means? No one knows.

Bruno "felt" his vision cave collapsing and investigated. That's how he knew it was destroyed.

Camilo couldn't really hold a form forever because of how tiring it could be.

Mirabel did have a quinceañera.

Casita has a mind of its own with its own emotions. Sometimes it could play pranks on the Madrigals or be too upset to move anything.

Behind the scenes:

Earlier versions had a negative dynamic between Mirabel and Camilo.

The gifts are based off family archetypes. Antonio is a shy kid but opens up to animals.

Random Q&A (3/19/22)

Cannon universe:

The main reason for Mirabel and Isa's falling out was because they couldn’t see the difficulties the other was experiencing, because they were fixated on their own struggles. They were probably closer when they were younger.

Despite being shy, Antonio does have friends in the town.

Due to the triplets' bday being the same day as Pedro's death, it's a mixed day.

Pepa can try to stop natural disasters, but doesn't usually succeed.

Mirabel would sometimes have sleepovers with her sisters when they were younger. There was a deleted scene showing it.

The pink cloud scene in Surface Pressure represents the stuff Luisa wanted to do without the pressure.

Behind the scenes:

Tbh there wasn't any answers that could qualify as behind the scenes sooo... 🤷

Stuff that didn't come from Q&As but is still good info

Madrigal Birthdays (I'm not doing a link for each, just take my word for it lol):

Félix: November 11 (11/11)

Julieta, Pepa, Bruno: October 17 (10/17)

Agustín: June 19 (6/19)

Isabela: August 7 (8/7)

Dolores: August 31 (8/31)

Luisa: November 14 (11/14)

Camilo: December 28 (12/28)

Mirabel: March 6 (3/6)

Antonio: May 21 (5/21)

Madrigal ages:

Alma: 75

Julieta, Pepa, Bruno: 50

Isabela: 21

Dolores: 21

Luisa: 19

Camilo: 15

Mirabel: 15

Antonio: 5

I don't believe the husbands' ages are confirmed, but Félix is confirmed to be a little older than the triplets, while Agustín is a little younger than the triplets.

Julieta is the oldest of the triplets, Pepa in the middle, and Bruno is the baby.

112 notes · View notes

ouchthathurts · 11 months

Text

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘?

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐬) ⋮ Kaedehara Kazuha + General! AFAB! Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⋮ 8.5k (this is a big boy)

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞 ⋮ One-Shot

𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭 ⋮ The Vision Hunt Decree took many things away from people, your freedom was practically ripped away as you questioned what could keep you going after being torn away from your husband…

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ⋮ I really do just wanna run away with him!!!!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⋮ Writing contains spoilers for Inazuma lore and mentions of pregnancy

You longed for the emotions that was snatched from your grasp, desperately clinging to the way the things you’ve wanted so bad, honestly, there were much more things you needed to worry about that time when you were sole heir in [L/N] clan, one that was being constantly challenged over and over again.

You’ve fought for so long for your proof of truly being right for it, while children spent days with their friends or were out with their parents getting food you were being trained relentlessly by your parents that were only able to conceive you before they were struck with infertility. You were the only one to exist in their eyes, unable to have many children for the bountiful clan you were forced to choose a suitor for the marriage.

“I don’t want to choose anyone…” You whined, you were only 13 at the time and the idea of being bounded to someone for the rest of your life caused you anxiety, “Well, you need to pick right now.” Your parents commanded, some stook out to you such as Ayato from the Kamisato Clan, you remembered him the familial meetings however, one left you to stare for a bit longer.

It was boy with platinum blond hair, you hadn’t really taken any notice to him physically other than what you had heard of his family being well off–In fact, he offered himself to you in an act save his family. You took notice of his courage, dedication to his family, and his financial situation. With someone like him as your husband, you could have your freedom as he truly wouldn’t be in control. Your little brain was unaware of the seriousness of it all, other than being told you guys would be together for as long as the two of you lived, you didn’t truly know what this marriage had meant.

At the time, they were one of the with history imbedded into the most extravagant parts of Inazuma and thus when the two of you were to meet the roles were discussed among the two of you. Only 14 at the time, you had questioned the many obstacles that were slowly beginning to put off the idea of you becoming a soldier alongside your parents and instead, you would be put into the position fit for becoming home bound.

Your family was the first to tell you of the situation between the two clans, around the time of your 15th birthday, the Kaedehara coming together with [L/N] clan in order to help try and save face, the heir found himself very much ready to accept the marriage even though you found great despair in the idea of losing your freedom to the act of becoming just someone who was housebound and childbearing, you wanted more than anything to explore the lands beyond Inazuma, becoming just like your parents and take their position was one ingrained as the future you needed to be in.

This wedding, only going on a week after your 15th birthday, would be the only time you’ve seen him besides the one portrait him shown by your parents at the meeting. You were worried for the situation in itself, you yearned that the boy you were marrying was one who would not withhold you of your freedom and yet, there was no real choice as it was left to your husband in the end.

You remembered your wedding day, you were dressed into the traditional wear for a wedding, looking at yourself in the mirror as you found yourself being put under the expectations of the clan to represent yourself as abundance and grace to the people as you were making your way to the groom.

The act of marriage was draining, from the entirety of the ceremony and the act of keeping your eyes on the boy before you. All you did was stare at his lips, unable to look into his eyes. Nothing could stop you from this moment however, and now you would be swearing your life to this person before you, you looked at the one your life was now sworn to and nothing more brought you joy other than the hopes that your significant other at this moment would agree to the condition of you becoming a general in order to replace your parents.

You remembered the night after the wedding, the two of you leaving the event to head outside and sit to look out at the bright moon above you. You were both only a couple of inches away from one another, only glancing at one another frequently with the shared awkwardness. You wanted to talk to him, more like demand your freedom since that was now left to your husband and what he wanted for your life together. Without his permission your parents would stay in their positions until told by the boy you were now married to.

“Can I tell you something?”

You raised a brow at this, a feeling of confliction on your face as you questioned what on earth, he could say to you at this moment that was more important than what you wanted to ask to him at this very second. The young man looked at you with soft eyes, he took a deep breath as he looked at you while you continued to face forward, you tried your hardest to hide the look subtle disappoint was written all over your face.

“Of course.”

You stated, not knowing what to truly say as you found yourself lost in your mind with the idea of you losing your guaranteed position as general if you couldn’t immediately find out his plans of the life you had. You hated the power he had, not knowing that much about him hadn’t helped either as you looked at him with a look confusion.

“I understand that our time together is nothing short of an act of helping the Kaedehara clan from falling into obscurity…Nonetheless, I am glad you’re here with me.”

“Because I am now bounded to you?” You spat, it was harsh and a very on the spot decision as you felt irritation crawl up your spine as you looked at the boy, “I know my purpose and I just want to get this over with so, I can explore Teyvat.” You explained. Kazuha took note of your hostility, wanting to try and ease the mood as he gave you a small smile, “I have no intentions of keeping you bounded to me…I want you to all to your hearts content.” You felt your cheeks lightly heat up; you turned your head to him with your hands now fidgeting with one another in embarrassment from the words. Your eyes widened to look at him in awe at what he was saying to you.

“My intentions with you are completely up to what you want, and I am in your debt for choosing to help the Kaedehara Clan.” You found yourself feeling a bit down after that, this was an act of kindness that you pushed against your parents and now that he was more willing to let you explore you found yourself longing for some type of path to help become more closer to him.

“Do you want to travel with me?” You questioned, you looked into the boy’s eyes with a face of sympathy, “I would love to.” The blond said, it was a very pleasant tone that you couldn’t help but look forward to everyday, you then turned to look back at the moon above while Kazuha’s cheeks began to turn pink wondering what to say.

“You know, the first time I laid eyes on you, I was starstruck. You were like the archons coming to bless me with all that I’ve asked for…You were the most magnificent person in the way your act of kindness had illuminated my future and your smile that lit up the world…”

You were quick to call out to him, “I didn’t smile the whole ceremony…” You explained to him, nothing to truly combat such a lie as you found yourself now dismissive, Kazuha was quick to adjust himself to your looks where he was quick to grab your shoulders that made you look at him in result. You gasped at the sudden movement, looking into his eyes with confusion, you watched the scene before you, looking into his eyes with a look of pure curiosity as you analyzed the features on his face.

The young man you had married, who went by the name of Kazuha, was a sight for sore eyes to say the very least. Blessed with skin that looked as soft as silk with uniquely placed moles on his face, platinum blond hair with a single red streak on the right side of his face, the look in eyes were conveyed with his red eyes that resembled so familiar to the leaves of Autumn and even more so, his voice that cradled like you a newborn.

You looked at the young man, nothing to truly say as you were enveloped in astonishment for him in the moonlight with look of seriousness on his face. You looked at Kazuha intricately, every feature opening a door to a new feeling that had begun to overwhelm you. Kazuha found his hand glide to your jaw, where he cupped your cheek with a slow rub of his thumb on the highest part of your cheek bone.

“When I saw you in those pictures, when I watched you fight against those who were upcoming soldiers never standing a chance against you, the smile that shined brightly in the sea of depression that laid burden to your glow. You were pure elegancy, refined, and your personality was full of life and warmth. I had never seen anyone so inspiring, and I knew in that moment I had to get to know you better…”

Kazuha continued to stroke your cheek, the illumination of the moon had only begun to display the subtle beauty of the man tenfold, opening feelings you had never felt before as you tried to your eyes away from counting the moles, or the shine of his lips, or the lovely strands, or even the way his eyelids began to become heavy.

“Every time I look at you, I am more and more captivated by your beauty and grace, and I am still in awe of you. You are truly a masterpiece. When I saw you in your wedding attire for the first time, you took my breath away. I had never seen anyone more lovely than you. You looked like an angel, and I couldn't help but feel overjoyed to be marrying such a person.”

You couldn’t feel something prickle at your eyes, you began to blink at an alarming rate as you began to question what in the world was going on with you, “Oh.” You cooed out softly, feeling the tears rush down your face before Kazuha went to wipe them, you instinctively flinched away before Kazuha reached for your shoulders and dragged you back into his arms where he had begun to hold you tight to him.

Kazuha looked into your eyes, the red glow was apparent as it was enough to let Kazuha’s hands fall to your waist while yours laid on his chest, you looked into his with quivering smile before Kazuha gave you one that caused your every barrier to be wiped away as if a wave had taken down the sturdy walls of your castle where the flooding of emotions had continued to envelope you.

“I love you, my beloved.”

You sighed softly, “Oh, my.” Before this moment you wouldn’t have look twice at Kazuha, and now the thought of staring at him for the rest of your life was one you had only hoped for. You let your half-lidded eyes began to close alongside Kazuha’s, the two of you still looking at one another before you felt the pair soft lips of your now husband against yours, at this moment nothing had mattered at this moment. You let yourself close off from all worries once you felt the lips of your significant other began to quell all your worries.

From that night on, you were continuing your path to exploring the many wonders of Teyvat with the help of your very supportive husband by your side. You were put through with rigorous training, as the call of being of general was one your parents were still cemented in, you fought against enemies of Inazuma alongside the exploring of Teyvat during your late teen years. Kazuha would stay in Inazuma at this time, wondering about you from afar as he sent you letters of encouragement after each battle has ended.

Very soon you were becoming a general, you were 5 Years strong with your man, your relationship was as loving as it got for the two of you until that day. You were there when it was called, due to your status as general however, similar to Kujou Sara, you were told to keep your vision and continue on with what your duties were told of you. You weren’t given initial word on the situation, a late day as your job grew to be more and more of pain your back, yet you must continue in order to preserve your name and make sure Kazuha’s father is well taken care as the time for his passing begins to draw closer.

You kept to yourself about the situation until the city of Inazuma was all summoned for a search for a fugitive from the law. You were called in second to Kujou Sara, who would be sent to enforce the Vision Hunt Decree after the incident happened earlier that day, here you were in front of the shogun who looked down at you with hints of disappointment and anger once the almighty laid eyes on you. You were quick to take a knee to the one you followed in dear admiration. There would be no way you would be able to formulate for a response for what the Shogun told you.

“Your husband has been sentenced to execution.”

You were quick to feel your heart stop, the sweat from before that you were drenched in due to training and the blood in you had ran cold at the call of such a situation. You knew better than to argue and even more so, you knew there was nothing for you to truly doo as you found yourself slowly getting off your knee, you felt yourself become queasy and you looked into the Shogun’s eyes with a look of shock. The shogun took notice of your face, “It seems you were unaware of this.” You nodded at this, wondering what had happened whilst you were out training the day after Kazuha told you he would be out with his close friend.

“After the execution of my Musou No Hitotachi bestowed on his friend after trying to strike against I, the Raiden Shogun, and breaking numerous of the laws that are of the lowest of low for someone married into such an illustrious clan.” The Shogun dare not speak his name, you had put your weapon on the floor as you found yourself filled with immense emotion that could damage your reputation of your job as general and the clan your family has spent years perfecting.

You tossed your weapon for many reasons, one definitely being that regardless of everything you would indeed call for a challenge against the Shogun with a never-ending goal to kill them, there was nothing truly holding you back as you had nothing left to lose as you wiped the sweat off of your forehead and your face to hide the angered look on your face. “It seems he was able to snatch the vision from the now dead traitor, he has fled Inazuma as well as him being a vision wielder himself. Know that I’m disgusted and very much disappointed in what that man has become.”

You looked into the eyes of the Shogun; you felt the tears well up in your eyes as you tried to look for a reason to stand on your own two feet at this moment. The realization setting on you with immense fear and anguish as you tried to find meaning and some type of reasoning to keep it together.

Shogun sighed looked down at you, no emotion or care for your predicament as she then continued to explain to situation to you, “We have swept through yours and his father’s homes in search of him and any lead to where he has gone. We will be putting up the wanted posters and there will be a search for the man known as Kaedehara Kazuha.” The way the Shogun had spat his name that felt like the slur of the worst kind.

“We will be intercepting the mail you and his father receive, in case he tries to contact either of you. That traitor would only be putting the two of in more trouble than he has already caused. If you see him, you will report him, turn him in, and if needed…To end that traitor’s life.” You weren’t there, something in your mind kept you there like the strings were sewn into your veins that moved you like a puppet. You let yourself blink, you were staring for so long to stop yourself from the tears, you looked into the Shogun’s eyes before balling your hand into a fist and brought to your heart.

“Yes, Mighty Shogun.”

You bowed then were dismissed, left to wander the empty city of Inazuma as those who populated were in fear of the Shogun’s hand, you made your way first to Kazuha’s father. The man was sick, in promise of wedding you would use all your money help the older man from falling ill and even more, protect him with all your heart. You found yourself looking at the older man, whose eyes were red and puffy from the tears that ran down his cheeks, it was harsh sight as you found your own heart beginning to collapse in on itself as you looked at the man with nothing more empathetic stare as you aided him to sleep before helping clean up his home after the soldiers had no care for helping the father of traitor.

You finished up and began to head home. You remembered the sight when you opened the door, the look of disarrangement from the soldiers who shared no care in what was being delt to you for being married to the man to was now removed from the citizenship of Inazuma. Alas, there you wear feeling the home’s disfigurement as another reason to let the pain quell you into ever longing defeat that waited you.

You let yourself fall to your knees, with the papers on the ground surrounding you like the ruined nest, in that moment you let the situation take over you. You let yourself cry like a child, screaming and whining for your husband in the empty home the two of you shared. This type of crying, it was rare for you to let this happen and with Kazuha, every sentenced he uttered and every call of your name that slipped from his lips left you in a mess.

You cried for anything to hold you up and even more as you continued to cry out for anything bring you back to early this morning where you would’ve done everything in your power to restart everything and give you the chance to be engulfed in the young man.

It had been a year since the establishment of the Vision Hunt Decree and closing of Inazuma city borders. Tension grew rampant in the walls, even more as the year had fallen on you.

You were remarried, your parents begging you to do so after Kazuha’s father had passed just a month after the calling for the head of Kaedehara Kazuha. You had no real choice, with one stroke of your parents would be able to rewrite your position as General and you would be disgarded with your vision snatched away from you.

The only thing keeping your ambition going was your job as General, the idea of losing your position was one that you had your heart ache in confusion and confliction as you were forced into the position, however, here you were latching onto the one thing you had semi control over with the quick answer for marriage.

You assembled to meet your new husband, one of a different clan that was still noble and held the Shogun up in their minds similar to that of worshiping the Archons. You found yourself uncaring of the situation, the idea of marrying in under a year was one you wanted to hold off as long as possible, on the other hand, your parents needed you married in under a month in order for your clan to stay true to reputation of upholding the world of the Shogun as general.

That’s when you married, one of the samurai from Raiden’s army, you were quick to choose another outfit for the wedding as your past wedding outfit was one that was kept for the memory of Kazuha. The year had been beating you with nothing left besides your body that suffered the scars and bruises from battle with the different armies and the mental battle that had eaten away at your desire to continue life as you know it with no left of love for anything.

You and your now husband were getting the photos taken for the home after having to remove all the pictures of Kazuha, your heart ached as you snatched one up before putting that picture with some left over poetry in a bow and burying on the hill where you and Kazuha shared a kiss that brought you joy and kept you in high spirits whenever you kissed the man your heart longed for so long for.

You, and the man you were married to, were on scene for the collection of a vision, keeping the people back in case of any rebellions coming to try and stop the act of removing a vision from ones who were not of high status. You found yourself watching as one shot from the crowd to collect the vision, the two of you watched in awe as the blond had held the vision in their hand looking up at the Shogun.

You were in awe and shock as you watched both soldiers who guarded the one, they were removing the vision from spring into action to try and collect the one who was going against the law of the Shogun. You watched as their blade was drawn, taking both of the soldiers with ease before the mighty Shogun made their way towards the blond.

With no vision they were still able to harness elemental energy in their palms, the way the people had reacted to the Shogun’s call for their eternity was nothing of a warning before the shot of electricity began its way to the sky whilst being released from the sword that the Shogun had now brought out. The summoning was elegant, when held up the sword radiating with determination of the Shogun as she called out to the blond before them.

“You will be inlaid upon this statue.”

The crowd gasped at the words, with the taking of the blond you and the soldier you were spending your time with were now to call for the residence of Inazuma to return home as this could result in a rebellion. Your calls were to make sure the public was hidden from such tragedies, the idea of eternity laid in the minds of all who obeyed the Shogun’s orders.

While the people were rushed home you were able to watch the fights conclusion, your eyes wide as the blond was now laid out on the floor, it left you in fear with your feet cemented to the floor as you watched the summoning of energy into the sword that was going to brought down on them. You felt emotions of pain and longing for such a rebellion, yet your duty called to you and dragged you away.

“We must hurry, beloved.”

You were dragged along, your face still burdened with the memories of those passed and even more, you were there to witness all the Archons had to offer to you at this moment. The pain and grief-stricken look as you and the people were rushed away from the sight and continued to be pushed on back to their homes. You had worry, nonetheless, you would be called again by the Shogun in the recent events to help guard the palace, you awaited your calling at home for tomorrow.

It was nighttime, the man you were legally bounded to was across the table from you, instead of looking at him with all the passion a loving significant other should have you were staring into your favorite drink that lulled you to memories that have stayed dormant in you. You yearned for the look of fiery passion in his eyes in those of the one who sat before you, a uniqueness about them that kept you enamored in their appearance that could be as simple as moles, and yet, here you were finding the cup as the apple of your eye more than the man before you.

You were disgusted in him at this moment, being lost in your mind did you no good as you were left to look down into the cup with a longing feeling. “Are you alright, beloved?” You nodded, no words to say as the act of talking to him had repulsed you beyond the edge of the universe. You looked into the man’s eyes, a smile on your face that reeked of sweetness that hid the scowl you’d have after he left. “Good…” The man sighed with relief before giving you a smile, “I can’t wait for you to have my children.” A soft peck on the forehead as your parents cooed in response to the one you would be carrying.

You hated the remark of children, you wanted to avoid this as becoming a general would guarantee that you wouldn’t have to endure them and continue your life with the freedom of your wealthy inheritance and to leave Inazuma. You shared a bed with the creatin who wanted nothing more of you than being an incubator, nothing to truly be excited for the days following and even more so at this night where you found your days being wasted by the dreams that let you in the grace of being in Kazuha’s arms once more with the nightmare of reality coming to cut your short of any type of happiness that you had longed for when you were of that young age.

You decided it was that time of night, when your husband left to do late night training where you left through the back door and went to where you had been going every time you had a night off. You took in the smell of the night, it was cold and yet, so nostalgic. You looked over a high peak of Inazuma where you were once on your wedding night with the only man you could ever love to help sooth you in ways no person could never imagine. Even years after the feeling continued to eat you alive, increasing frantically as you sat down in this same spot where you were once at your peak of happiness.

The world was dull around you, of course, without those bright and passionate eyes that looked over your expressions with joy as you read the writings that left you immersed in the beauty of the world you had never truly seemed to notice with the young man who brought you so much. Now you were back where this feeling originates, no spark to pick you up as you look over the edge to see the bright moon familiar to that night.

You sighed, letting yourself ease into the position before feeling the presence of another come close, “I apologize but this place is occupied.” You explained, your eyes not going far back as you continued to look forward with an uncaring face, there you were just looking forward as the ideas of having nothing more to do with your life beat you into submission.

You listened for their footsteps to continue, soon hearing the grass underneath them crushed as the person took their spot next to you with only a couple of inches keeping the two of you away from one another. You looked over at the lit-up city this night, the warm lights of the homes there could never replicate the feeling no matter how large your home was there was nothing that could replicate the feeling of being in the warmly lit home with the person to keep you warm that night, no light needed whatsoever.

“Are you okay?”

The person next to you spoke, their voice was raspy most likely exhaustion taken over as it was a long night, there voice seemed hardened by hardship faced such as screaming or excessive crying, something you had become quite intertwined with as the fact that the one you only loved was now gone and even more was someone who showed interest in you to open your eyes to the beauty of yourself.

“No.”

You were honest, there was no need to lie to the stranger next to you as you were quite enveloped in their voice that kept you nice and comfortable, honesty would be best to keep the conversation going as you longed to hear anyone actually want to talk to you outside of work or your arranged marriage that you wanted nothing to do with even after getting to know them.

You sighed before the person next you chuckled, “Is there something wrong?” You nodded at this eagerly, “There is…There’s always something wrong these days…” The person next to you had looked you closely, you felt their eyes on you and yet, you continued to look forward as you had no real words to say to him. “Well, can you tell me what’s wrong? I’m great at listening.”

You thought for a minute at this, you felt your heart ache at all the feelings you felt and even more, the idea of coming to spill your guts out to the person next to you was something you hadn’t expected as you questioned what you were on about in the first place. “I’m in love with someone who is not my current husband…” The person raised a brow, “Current Husband?”

You nodded at this, “Yes, sadly, I was forced to remarry in order to make sure my lover’s father did not die before he could return to say goodbye…” You felt yourself aching, your ribs closing around your organs like you were holding something in that was practically eating you alive. “I needed to keep my clan’s reputation as a general and as a heir…So, I let myself be wed…”

The person next to you sighed, “That sounds terrible…” You nodded at this, “What happened to your past husband?” You perked up at this, you could go on for hours about the man you’ve longed to be around for centuries as Kaedehara Kazuha was one for the books with his personality that made you feel you so war inside the act of a pyro vision couldn’t even compete, or the fact his writings were ones you kept secretly buried under where you sat as you reread them to hold the memory even closer to heart after your separation.

“Not in Inazuma…Not after his head was called for by the Shogun.” They hummed, "Do you believe they’ll come back?” You raised a brow at this before rolling your eyes the acknowledgment of it, “I don’t think so…” They hummed again, “Why not?” You rolled your neck as you adjusted your position to a more comfortable one, “I don’t think I’m worth coming back for. Especially since I’m remarried…I don’t know if he’ll still love me the same.”

The person next to you smiled at this, their hands were quick to your face, they turned you to look at them with this longing look in their eyes with a soft smile as the person you found your voice began to make your throat swell out of the idea of being with them once more. You cooed to yourself as you questioned how you even felt at such a situation, you almost wanted to cry at looking into their face.

Kaedehara was a sight for the sorest eyes, his beauty that he held with ease had often times left you befuddled by such and even more now as age had beautiful laid their graceful hands on him with the most attentiveness. The young man’s hair was much longer, placed into a high ponytail with his bangs and hair coming to cover his ears, he had a lovely face to start off with and with age it continued to find its way as the scars on his face never deterred yet, added to the ruggedness that came with some of the worn-down material of his clothing.

You looked into his soft eyes; half lidded with a bright glint in the beautiful bright red eyes that glazed over you as your felt almost everything drown out your senses just leaving his voice alone for your tortured heart. “How I missed you…” The way Kazuha said your name made your lips fall into uncontrollable pout before you felt the tears prickle your eyes.

You didn’t know what to say, the way your tongue was tied into the tightest of knots, you wanted to say something to bring attention to the way you felt for the man before you. You made a quick decision, you launched yourself at the young man before you with your arms wrapping around his neck.

Kazuha let you take him down on his back, you laid your head in the crook of his neck as you began to cry furiously as everything, squeezing him tightly with the fueling feeling that he might never return. It was almost as if he wasn’t real, you weren’t touching him, but you remembered pulling yourself up to look down at him where Kazuha removed his arms from around your waist to your face where he pulled you into his lips with the largest smile on his face.

You felt the tears hit your cheek, as you let yourself get pulled tighter into the kiss that enveloped you like you were a child, you whined into the kiss as you were so desperate for more of the love Kazuha had to offer to you. At this moment however, the two of you had to pull away from one another.

“Moments like this can’t last forever…” Kazuha cried out; his voice sounded almost relieved as the tears leaked from his eyes at the thought of being in your presence again. You thought of that for a moment, a swiftness in you that left you with sense of longing for him. “Let's run away together.” You told him, he looked at you in bewilderment as you yourself looking down at him with yearning eyes.

Kazuha stuttered, “What about your husband?” The young man looked at you with pleading eyes, to forget all duties and come into his open arms that only unleashed themselves for you. Forget him–All he wants for me is to be housebound and stuck in Inazuma for the rest of my days as his incubator!” You would never open up this much, even your closest that you knew of had never known about this part of the relationship.

However, this was Kazuha you were talking about, you were practically opening the pages to your written story get torn away and replaced with the writings for your future endeavors with Kazuha. Kazuha’s eyes widened at this, as much as he wanted you to come with him on his travels and more, to come with him and spend time with the young man, there was nothing he could do legally as you had divorced Kazuha under the fact, he was now an outlaw that was granted to you by the Shogun.

“Your marriage–” You barked at him, “Take me with you!” You cried out to him; you were practically in a mess of all the emotions you felt at this moment. Even if Kazuha was better at covering up such a thing as the years had hardened him and made him into the man he was today, there was nothing without your glow and your presence. The yearning to be in your arms again took over him, countless times you two were close to one another while he was hiding, he found himself never fully leaving Inazuma as he longed for your voice to call out for him.

Kazuha was smitten, absolutely infatuated with your existence, there was nothing stopping him at this moment where you and he could leave with one another and escape. “When the Vision Hunt Decree is rid of, I will take you to lands beyond Inazuma–Not just for fighting, but to take in nature as yours.” You nodded eagerly at this, you looked into the young man’s eyes before questioning the decree, “The end?” Kazuha hushed you, “Yes…A couple of friends of mine are coming together…”

The young man explained to you, putting your hands on your mouth in astonishment as you questioned what on earth he was on about, “We are going to take on the Riden Shogun…We will end that decree, and we will travel the world.” You found your hands on his shoulders, his hands around your waist, you let your face fall onto his his below you as you cried out in joy for the plan Kazuha had laid before you.

You decided to wait for this plan to come into fruition…

“My dear…” You felt your eyebrows furrow at the nickname, what could you possible say as you looked at your weapon with a longing for someone. When you found your eyes slowly looking up through your lashes to look at the man you questioned him, “Yes, husband of mine?” The man scoffed at such a phrasing, calling you out on the emotions buried in you that you hoped he wouldn’t spill in front of you for your heart to be on display and dissected by the one who you found no desire to be around.

“Your sadness for that wanderer that tried to ruin Inazuma…I noticed it when that blond laid on the ground and looked as if you were guilty or resentment for what you were doing.” The man spat, you almost cried out in a relief and so, you barked out a laugh at the man to hide the feeling of sympathy you felt for the blond that laid on the ground hoping that regardless of it all they would be granted the eternity of love and affection even if they were to do such a thing to the mighty Shogun.

“Nonsense. I have my values for my Shogun that exceed my love for even you, my dear.” It was a joke since you truly had no love for the man next to you or feelings of belonging under the hand of the Shogun. You felt the mention of long sting you, a common feeling as you watched couples frolic with one another only finding happiness in those relations whilst you were alone.

The feeling of love you held for the man who had stayed in your heart so lovingly was one that hit you with a smidge of guilt as you thought of him while guardian with your significant other, “Really?” You nodded, chuckling at the questioning that came with a soft whine, “But of course. My duties come before all; never will they ever be dissuaded by such.”

This was true.

What could you really say? The year after the deeply beloved man who had grown around your heart like an armor that kept you emotionally and physically protected, with an aura that they blessed you with when you had nothing but forced on duties, and the love that grew with the 5 years of marriage had brought you more and more joy than thee man next to you could never even think of reaching in your eyes.

“I understand.” The man sighed to himself, he pushed the loose brown strands from his face where you got to look at his nice fair skin and pretty brown eyes, you acknowledged that he was handsome yet, no beauty could catch your eye quite like Kazuha as his true excellency was not just a brief look but an in depth analyzation of everything that any man can bring to make you swoon for them.

“Do you think you’ll ever love me as much as you respect the Shogun?” You scoffed at this, thinking he could compete with the almighty woman that hailed down on Inazuma city, “we live under the ruling of such a God. We need to respect her more than we can love anyone so we can live in peace.” You looked into the man’s eyes, he sighed at your response before immediately changing his face to one of stern and a look of frustration as he got up from the table, “We should pay attention to our work.” You nodded at this and the two of you made your way over.

It was the night as of now, all had been settled from what you heard from Guards on the patrol at that time and in fact they had noticed the blond being escorted by Kujou Sara into the place of the Shogun. You, and the man you lived with, stayed near the gates. You were both behind them, just watching and waiting for something to happen. It wasn’t long before some energy was shot through the air that had caught all the guard's attention, you all flinched at this moment as the closest went over to the door whilst the near end rushed towards the gates.

You found yourself watching as all the guards collapsed, the air had become dense and like dominoes you all were beginning t fall to the ground, the air was one you were unfamiliar with as you found yourself getting hit was such had begun to clog up your throat. You were quick to fall to your knees, grabbing your throat as Kaito rushed towards your side, holding you to stop your face from hitting the ground before he soon fell to unconsciousness.

You looked around, all the guards still choking on the dense air that had become one a fear of any as some began to reach out to the one who opened the doors of the Shogun’s place. You all cried out in pain, groaning and moans that howled out only to fall on the deaf ears of the blond who passed you all.

You continued to hear of the noises that burdened you, your place on the floor with your head cradled under the chest of the one you looked on with unloving eyes, you found yourself more than hating the burden that life had become on you. You watched from afar as the Shogun began to make her way over to the blond, you wanted to say something, but as the dense air had grown thicker, there was nothing you could truly do besides let the darkness swallow you whole.

For all of Inazuma, that day was a moment of celebration for the Vision Hunt Decree and the gates of Inazuma to open once more to allow people their freedoms from within the walls and out as people were blessed with the future of their own versions of eternities to go and pursue.

You were bed ridden for a while, all soldiers inside of the palace were being taken care of and after some days most had begun to awake, there you laid in the bed, waiting for one or someone to come and comfort you. You were sat up on your bad, your back against the wall before slipping on the slippers that now quelled your feet, you didn’t truly know what to do as you stood up from your bed and dusted off the white clothing you were dressed in as you adjusted the long kimono like sleeves before making your way out of the building to look outside at all the people.

Some were soldiers that you looked after, reconnecting with loved ones as they cried in their arms with the cheers for those who were coming out of the healing area, you watched on in awe as the people were being cared for by those that had missed and those who had done the same for you. You felt your heart warm up as you watched the children run to their family dressed in the white robes.

You looked on with your face almost scrunching up in pure jealousy before feeling a hand on your shoulder, you turned to look at the man you were married to, “With the demolishment of the laws such as the Vision Hunt Decree and the borders of Inazuma now opened for all to come…It seems as if everyone was finally free and happy to live in the hearts of their eternity.” You smiled at this, thinking of your eternity with Kazuha–It being cut off after the man who was legally bounded to you planted a kiss on your cheek, you found this feeling fleeting as the kiss gave you nothing but a reminder of the one who was now gone and even more as it was killing the reasoning for your own eternity before you found yourself scanning the crowd one more time.

You almost cried out in joy, your eyes landing a familiar platinum blond hair that congratulated those soldiers who were coming out of the same building as you with a large smile on his face that let you know of his joyful look in his face. You watched on in admiration as his words for just as beautiful as he was, the aura that warmed up everything inside of you and brought joy to the next day as you felt yourself hiccup.

You immediately put a hand over your mouth, your eyes were beginning to grow ever weaker as you looked at the young man that only stood a few feet away from you with the same look from before, you acknowledge his bandaged his hand and forearm and the scars on his face. You watched him, your heart pounding against your ribs as you questioned every God in the universe before you found yourself just staring at him.

You found your knees getting weak upon hearing his laughter.

You felt the man you were married to go for your shoulders, you couldn’t stand by as you watched the one you love not to know of your status at this moment. You were quick to run over to him, practically launching yourself over as your weak knees branded you, you kept running however, as fast you could with your arms out and tears began to fall rapidly as you watched the young man only a few feet away.

You cried out for him, “Kazuha!” You were practically sobbing as you ran, nothing could stop you at this moment as you continued cry with your eyes closing only waiting for the impact of your beloved in your embrace. Kazuha was one who hadn’t truly noticed you until you called for his name and even more there was nothing stopping Kazuha from immediately pushing past those in the crowd.

Kazuha yelled out your name in fear, hoping this wasn't another delusion of you and he had heard of you, Kazuha noticed you with the body parts shown covered in scars from the fight for the Shogun’s laws that lead your department from the young man who practically needed you more than anything at this moment.

The two of you cried out to one another as soon as you were broth close enough to see one another, the puffiness of your eyes from crying and the tears that fell gracefully on his cheeks did nothing to help the engulfing of one another in a hug. You felt the young man’s strong arms around you, it was weird feeling Kazuha hold you so tight as his muscles were defined and more sculpted from when you saw last saw him.

Kazuha was holding you up, your legs falling weak as he held you so close to his chest before placing your head below his chin and beginning to let the tears fall not in front of you however, as the years had become so burdened by what had happened that fateful day that Kazuha wished he could’ve done something-Anything to bring you back into his good graces as he held onto you so tightly not wanting to lose you.

You, on the other hand, were a practical stone in front of all and yet here you were with your ugly sobs that came from your throat as Kazuha held you so similar to way you had so longed for from your parents. You found this hug to be the most impactful thing of your life, the long year without Kazuha drained you both immensely and at this moment, something felt so fulfilling to be in one another’s arms.

You felt Kazuha grab your face and pull you away from his chest, you looked deep into the sunken eyes of Kazuha with his face very much the embodiment of beauty that even God’s wouldn’t be able to obtain no matter how many times they tried, with the face still growing with age as his look of ruggedness from his hair that had very much grown to become even longer now tied up as well as his chiseled neck, chest, and shoulders.

Kazuha still had that same face however, no matter how long, he could maintain the beauty he had for the rest of his days as you stared in his eyes with admiration as well as him returning the look with such a gaze that shined of passion and infatuation that only grown from the year as this yearning had only become brighter in brighter as he looked more and more into your eyes.

You found your hands on his chest, feeling a bit before landing on his broad shoulders that let you have a better look of the physique he hid under his clothes; you were soon cut off from the admiration of it all by the feeling of Kazuha’s lips against yours.

You felt the passion in his lips as he pressed them against you with a molding that felt just right for the two of you, the only reason Kazuha ever pull away from such a kiss was to tell you to your face.

“I can’t wait spend my eternity with you.”

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tcfactory · 6 months

Text

Please imagine:

[5k words of an outline for a big Bingge centric AU, mentioned QiJiu and MoShang and potentially one-sided BingQiJiu. Time travel, fix-it(?)

Warning for canon typical child abuse and torture, mention of sexual abuse, minor mention of cannibalism, Bingge is his own warning let’s be real]

Binghe goes insane from Xin Mo and abandons his humanity completely, then devolves further into a rabid beast until Mobei and the Wives all work together to put him down. Xin Mo is so entangled in him that it can’t exist past its host anymore, so it unleashes all that it has left to prevent Binghe’s death.

That’s when the reset happens.

It’s like coming back from the brink, when your head breaks the water and the dark recedes from the edge of your vision as air fills your lungs. Sanity is a cold thing when surfacing from the depths of madness, but it keeps the warm animal-hunger of bloodlust and beastly instinct on the edges of his consciousness and that’s fine.

He’s a child again when he regains conscious thought, standing in front of the tea set, about to make that first cup of tea for his future Shizun, and he can’t afford to be a beast right now. There’s a part of him that feels different, the parts that Xin Mo devoured alongside his sanity have now been returned to him, soft and squishy and human. It’s strange, coming back to humanity after so long - how long? Decades? Centuries? Time has lost all meaning to a beast that could hunt and breed whenever it pleased.

Binghe doesn’t remember how to make tea. He’s not certain he ever knew at this age, but the beast in him recoils at the memory of scalding tea dumped on his head. He looks around, as subtle as he can, to find something that might help him avoid that. Shen Qingqiu is talking to Ming Fan, rattling off the necessities they need to provide the first new disciple since Ming Fan became head disciple, but Binghe can feel the man’s attention on him. Shen Qingqiu has noticed his hesitation and he’s waiting to see what Binghe is going to do next. There’s no help to be had there.

Ning Yingying lurks around, too curious of the new shidi to stay away, and Shizun indulges her as long as she stays close enough that he can track her. She would know how to make tea. She has always been one of his smartest wives - she made the array that pinned him down and stripped him of fang and claw and poison so Mobei Jun could shove portals under his skin, drain him of his healing blood and finally unmake him.

It was an agonizing way to die. He deserved all of it and more.

When it seems like an opportune moment he quietly asks Yingying shijie how to make tea fit for their Shizun. She pretends to tie his hair for him - shidi can barely see through this fluff, this won’t do, here’s how you tie it properly - and tells him the instructions in a whisper so quiet even he can barely hear it.

Shen Qingqiu notices, of course he does, but he pretends that he doesn’t. The tea is not great, but it’s palatable and Shen Qingqiu drinks all of it while he runs Binghe through the rules of the peak and the expectations placed on a scholarly disciple of Qing Jing. It’s such a jarring difference from the first time when he got sent away right after the tea incident that he can’t help but drift in his chaotically spinning thoughts instead of listening. This is not the kind Shizun, he thinks. So why did the tea make such a big difference? (Years later Yue Qingyuan happily tells him how he blackmailed one of the rich boys into showing him how to make tea for his own peak’s tea ceremony because he didn’t trust the adults enough to ask and couldn’t afford to seem lesser than those of higher birth and Binghe finally Gets It.)

His thoughts are interrupted when Ming Fan arrives and shoves the ‘new disciple care package’ in his arms. Binghe is still not used to being tiny again, so he tries to hold all of it like he would as an adult and can’t, dropping his manual and the writing kit in the process. Yingying immediately hops to pick it all up, scolding their shixiong for bullying the new shidi while Shen Qingqiu watches with a cold mask of indifference.

The manual has fallen open and it gives her pause when she picks it up. “Shizun, I don’t think this manual is right.” Shen Qingqiu says nothing, but he takes it from her and glances at the pages.

Binghe is certain that he’s the only one who notices how Shizun’s hold on the book tightens in anger until his fingers turn white. “It’s an older manual,” he says, neither voice nor expression giving away the rage he must feel to grip the book so tight. Luo Binghe knows even his smallest tells and the man is seething. “Go to the library pavilion and pick up the proper edition for your shidi. Dismissed!”

It’s a few days later when Binghe is trying to find a good spot in the library to practice his calligraphy - he knows how to write, in theory, but he forgot so many of these mundane little rituals in his madness that he needs to refresh the memory - when he walks into the range of a silencing array. It’s obviously a fluke that it extends into the corridor, but if Binghe puts his ear to the wall he can clearly hear Shen Qingqiu rage at his hallmasters and the head of the library pavilion because of the manual. The fake, harmful cultivation manual, one of many that have ruined and killed lonely disciples before, the ones who didn’t have friends or other support to notice that something was wrong.

Manuals Shen Qingqiu has ordered removed and destroyed when he became peak lord. Orders that the hallmasters ignored. Does Peak Lord Shen think they have the time to waste on something like this when the peak is already short staffed? There are more important parts of the collection to maintain than the beginner manuals - the only ones who would ever fall prey to the false manuals anyway are the charity cases, and they are not the ones who fund the scholarly peak. Really, this wouldn’t even be an issue at all if Shen Qingqiu didn’t let Liu Qingge goad him into taking on a dirty beggar child. Don’t they all know that things crawling in the dirt are never worth the trouble? Once filth, always filth.

Luo Binghe is almost bowled over when Shen Qingqiu storms out of the meeting, blind to his environment. The man’s qi roils, razor sharp like shattered glass, his anger driving him to the cusp of a qi deviation. Binghe has a hunch that whatever this is about, it’s not about him. Shizun would not be so angry on his behalf.

He could never figure out why the man mistreated him, could never break Shen Qingqiu open enough to get the answer he needed. This feels like an opportunity, a chance to unravel this puzzle, and it tickles his instincts to have something to chase, to press his nose to the trail and hunt.

So he starts to sniff around. People overlook children so easily, it’s almost effortless how he finds piece after piece. He learns that the people on the peak - the cultivators from his generation in particular, the pavilion overseers and the hallmasters - don’t respect Shen Qingqiu and often undermine his authority when he’s not there to personally force them to adhere to his standards. There’s an especially tense period every time after the Peak Lord leaves for the city - for the brothel, they say, to drown in his lust or to use some hapless girl as a cauldron and bolster his own mediocre cultivation - when they seem especially bold, holding his indulgence over his head like a finely balanced sword.

He learns from Yingying that he’s the first disciple to get into the peak through the selection for the last decade. All the other disciples are young masters and scholarly prodigies who come recommended by their mentors. They don’t need their Shizun’s encouragement to try and bully Binghe, even when he’s not rolling over like he did in his first life. He fights back, tooth and nail, a rabid little thing that leaves scratches and bruises on anyone who would provoke him and he doesn’t have to worry about sleeping in the woodshed because more often than not the dormitory overseers isolate him from the others as a form of punishment.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t interfere. He looks with the same disdain at both perpetrators and victim, bruised black and blue, and forbids them from leaving the peak until they are presentable again. It’s not until a particularly bad fight when Binghe takes a bite out of one of them, digging his teeth into a soft cheek and swallowing both the bloody chunk and the screams of terror with dark satisfaction, that Shizun’s hand is forced. Binghe is thrown into solitary confinement until the boy’s parents can come and demand fitting punishment for permanently disfiguring the rich brat. Binghe is grateful for these few days of isolation. He needs them to shackle the instincts screaming for blood, to calm his demon side that’s straining against his seals. It wasn’t like this the first time, but he came back as a beast in a boy’s skin so it’s not surprising.

He puts on the face of a lamb when they lead him outside, to the cold morning light and then to the punishment hall. The boy’s parents - a high-ranking official in the mortal Emperor’s court and his lady wife - look at him like he’s less than dirt, but there’s a glint of cruel satisfaction in their eyes when the stone faced Shen Qingqiu announces his punishment: by their demand, Binghe is to receive ten lashes with the discipline whip, or fewer if he passes out.

The Sect Leader came to oversee the punishment and the horror on his gentle face is obvious to all. The disciple whip is a cruel thing, one that can cripple even advanced cultivators, and will set Binghe’s cultivation back by years if it doesn’t ruin it altogether. The Sect Leader gives Shen Qingqiu a pleading look and Binghe lifts his head to tell him not to bother - when could Yue Qingyuan ever influence Shen Qingqiu for the better? - so he catches the Sect Leader’s expression when Shen Qingqiu flicks the case open and takes out the whip. Just for a moment, his expression flickers into surprise, then relief, before it turns into a blank mask. Binghe has no time to ponder what the hell that is about, because Shen Qingqiu swings the whip with the ease and confidence of practice and the line of fire down his back startles a scream out of him. He lived a whole life as a warlord and demon, but this body is that of a human child, unaccustomed to this sort of pain.

The world fades to black after two more strikes.

When he comes to, he is laying in a soft bed. The bedding smells clean, but oddly stale - like a guest bed they only air out every other day, but never use. He turns his head and the bamboo house comes into focus. It’s Shizun’s room and Shizun’s bed, but that makes no sense - where does the man sleep if not in his own bed? His cultivation isn’t good enough to forgo sleep altogether. There’s something here, a corner piece to this puzzle Binghe is struggling to fit into the big picture. Is this why Shizun keeps going to the brothels? Can he only find rest in the embrace of women? Binghe, formerly a very active master of a harem with hundreds of wives and concubines, can’t judge him for that. He already dismissed the rumors about Shizun abusing a cultivation cauldron; dual cultivation is one of the few methods to mend ruined meridians and Binghe still remembers how wrecked Shen Qingqiu’s cultivation was when he caught him.

There is yelling from the main room, Mu shishu’s incensed voice and the low rumble of the Sect Leader as he tries to calm him. Eventually a blank faced Shizun leads both of them inside and Mu shishu ignores all etiquette to rush to the bed and take stock of Binghe’s injuries.

“These… these are not the marks of a discipline whip,” he says, confused and relieved.

“Of course not,” Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “I don’t keep one of those wretched things around on my peak. As if those fools could tell the difference between a discipline whip and a regular slaver’s whip. All they wanted was to hear the little beast scream.”

The Sect Leader hurriedly reassures Mu shishu that the whip strikes are painful, but with the right treatment they won’t even scar.

“Zhangmen-shixiong, are you saying that from experience?” Mu Qingfang asks, massaging his temples and startles a little when Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan say “Yes!” in perfect unison. Another corner piece for the puzzle.

After his injuries are treated and Yue Qingyuan shepherds the healer outside, Binghe is left alone with Shen Qingqiu.

“What am I to do with you, little beast? If you don’t learn to rein yourself in, I will kick you off my peak before you can drag our reputation down.”

“He deserved it. They started it.”

“And? This is not Bai Zhan. You are in no position to make such a ruckus about things. Your stunt lost Qing Jing almost a tenth of our yearly funding. My own shizun would have beaten me to death if I pulled something so idiotic.”

“Then why didn’t you?” He’s starting to understand Shen Qingqiu, the wretched little slave, who clawed his way up to become Peak Lord despite his ruined cultivation and digs his teeth into what’s his so nobody can take it away, but he still wants to hear it from the man himself. “Do I remind you of yourself, Shizun?”

“Little beast, you are asking for a beating.” Shen Qingqiu forgot his fan, or else he’d be hiding behind it, as always. Binghe’s Shizun has such a terribly thin face. “You have potential and drive to make something of yourself. I want to see how far it will take you. If you learn how to hide your claws better.”

Oh, Binghe knows exactly how far he can go. But he humors his Shizun and does a demonstration of his White Lotus routine. Shizun fetches a fan just so he can smack him over the head, but says that it’s an adequate act, for now. However, if Binghe can’t fool the peak into believing that he mellowed out from the punishment, then he shouldn’t expect help from his master!

They settle into an understanding over the next few years. They are not of a kind, but they are both beasts after a fashion and now that he finally peered under Shen Qingqiu’s unbreakable armor, he doesn’t resent the man as much. Is he himself not a violent, monstrous thing once you peel off his pleasant facade? What filled the human child with fear and resentment entices the adult demon that now lives in his skin. Besides, Shizun hasn’t hurt him in this life. Shen Qingqiu usually lets him be, only interacting with him as much as any other discipline, but sometimes under the guise of chores he takes remedial lessons to perfect his act. The years he let go of his humanity took their toll and he needs the guidance to set some of the details right.

“I think I might be part demon,” Luo Binghe says one day, sipping tea in the bamboo house. For two hours straight Shizun poked and prodded at his insecurities, reaching for a level of unpleasantness he doesn’t often aim at him and Binghe kept his mask of a perfect, demure youth all throughout. At the end of it Shizun poured him a cup of tea and reluctantly praised his acting. It’s a thorny thing, Shizun’s praise, but it has set a warmth in Binghe’s chest that refuses to go away.

“You are fifteen. It’s probably just puberty.” Binghe laughs at his Shizun’s expression of disgust. Shen Qingqiu is technically not wrong either, because it’s his steadily growing sex drive that keeps aggravating his demon half. “I have met men who wish they could be demons. I don’t care as long as you don’t tarnish the reputation of the sect.”

“The sect or Qing Jing Peak?”

“The sect. Drag me down with your madness if you want. I chose to take responsibility for you as your Shizun, but leave the others out of it.”

The others in this case, Binghe has learned, means Yue Qingyuan. Binghe is not sure what ties the two men together (ten thousand arrows and a throat split open on the shards of a blade) but it’s a kind of devotion and he wants it for himself. He set this thread of fate against Xin Mo’s blade and it remained unbroken, so he wants to tangle himself up in it until he can forget that he has no thread of his own. He couldn’t find true peace in the embrace of a thousand women, but when he imagines himself sandwiched between Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan, the most resilient and the strongest man the human realm can offer, he thinks he could be satisfied. Shen Qingqiu’s sharp edges stimulate the demon part of him that wants to court with his fangs and claws bared and Yue Qingyuan’s soft brotherly manners soothe the neglected human boy he tried to rip out of his soul, but never managed. They would be perfect.

But first he has to find out why Shen Qingqiu keeps pushing the Sect Leader away and mend their relationship somehow, and a crucial step to that is making sure Liu Qingge lives. Binghe now suspects that the Bai Zhan War God’s death was an accident, but it drained Shen Qingqiu of any will to stand up for himself and he can’t allow that to happen this time around.

“When I passed Liu shishu earlier I sensed that his qi was unbalanced. He is heading to a deviation soon.” He can blame it on his Shizun that he learned to sniff out impending qi deviations, because Shen Qingqiu had them often and always, always tried to cover them up. “I know he is going to Lingxi caves for isolated cultivation and I overheard Mu shishu say that Shizun is following him in a fortnight. I want Shizun to be prepared to call for help if Liu shishu turns violent and attacks him.”

It’s a battle to convince Shizun to take the emergency talismans, but Binghe eventually wears him down. He spends the whole night before Shizun enters the caves drawing the talismans; it’s his punishment for bothering Shen Qingqiu so much in the past two weeks. Soon after, the Sect Leader leaves and Binghe doesn’t remember the exact timeline anymore, but it sounds like things are happening the way they did before; Liu Qingge’s death and the demon invasion was barely a week apart and Yue Qingyuan was absent for both. So Binghe loiters around the emergency medical team and waits.

Nobody notices it when he slips into the backline of the emergency team, keeping pace with them through the winding pathways of the Lingxi caves until something calls out to him, his instincts suddenly on high alert, and he falls behind, just as unnoticed. The side cavern is almost completely blocked off and once Binghe squeezes inside he can’t see anything, but he doesn’t need his eyes to tell what happened. Poisonous, disturbed qi saturates the cavern, heavy on his tongue with pain and fear and desperation, the rage of a dragon trapped in a bottle, thrashing to break free. He can feel the marks gouged into the walls when he touches them, can taste the blood saturating the surface when he licks along a deep crack.

A beast was trapped in here, a beast that tastes like Yue Qingyuan.

The discovery makes him giddy and he has to tear himself away from the cavern before the qi could damage his human cultivation or the sweet song of blood could awaken his demon half. Outside he finds that things happened as he expected, and to his relief both Peak Lords live. Liu Qingge seems unbearably insistent on undoing the damage he did to Shen Qingqiu’s reputation in the past, but Shizun seems just as annoyed by his attempts as Binghe, so it’s fine.

The demon invasion happens just on schedule and Binghe goes in with a plan to use the demon elder’s poisonous attack to pretend that was what awakened his demon half. It's a good plan, one that's immediately dashed by Liu Qingge, who can't bear to sit and watch when Shen Qingqiu gets to fight. For a blissful moment Binghe entertains the idea of revealing himself anyway and ripping Liu Qingge limb from limb, but he restrains himself and moves right on.

The encounter with Meng Mo is different. In the dream realm Binghe is not a child and he shuts off access to the dream before the old demon can pull anyone else in with them. Then he bows to the elder with all the respect his old mentor earned in that other life. “This Binghe is overjoyed to see Meng shushu has found him again.”

It’s strange, to explain what happened to him to someone who can’t possibly remember those events, but Meng Mo takes it all with grace, even when Binghe admits that Xin Mo trapped the demon in his own nightmare and slowly consumed him. Binghe doesn’t strictly need the grandfatherly old demon in his head - because as much as Meng Mo would deny it, Binghe has met enough demon families to now recognize him for the very typical demonic grandfather that he is - but his presence feels right and his power can tide them over until Binghe decides to break the seals.

Together they hatch a plan to trap his Shizun and his Shibo in a dream until they are forced to talk to each other. It’s easier said than done, because with Liu Qingge nipping at his heels again to demand a spar (get a hint already shishu, Shizun doesn’t see sparring as a bonding activity and you never told him that you mean it that way!) Shen Qingqiu refuses to go down to the brothel to sleep. Finally, when sleep deprivation is driving Shizun to the brink of a qi deviation, Binghe has enough and bluntly presents him with a sleep tonic. “You can take it willingly or I can hit you over the head and take you down to the city. Your choice, Shizun.”

It’s enough of a threat that Shen Qingqiu allows Binghe to distract Liu shishu with a barrage of very specific questions about an upcoming nighthunt and sneaks out to the city himself. The distance would usually be a bit bothersome, but Binghe can grasp the thread tying Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu together and pull them into a joint dream in the middle.

It’s worse than he expects. He gets a front row seat to their worst nightmares and even fully knowing that these are only memories, his demon blood burns to rip their enemies apart. Meng Mo bodily drags him outside of the dream so his enraged howling can’t disturb the long overdue reconciliation between Xiao Jiu and his Qi-ge.

“He was so cruel to me in that first life, I never imagined that he ever had it worse,” Binghe admits quietly when his rage has cooled, pale as a ghost as they watch the shade of Qiu Jianluo force himself on his child slave.

“Have you ever…?”

“No. Even I had my limits. I made sure they wanted me, even if they regretted it afterwards.” How many women did he feed to Xin Mo’s endless appetite over the years? He never counted. Meng Mo just hums and then shoos him away; the old demon can maintain the dream until the humans are done sorting themselves out and it’s probably not good for Binghe’s psyche to watch all of this.

The next few years are a blur. Binghe keeps his distance from Shen Qingqiu when it becomes clear that the reconciliation followed them out of the dream. He doesn’t want Shen Jiu to think of him as a disciple, a child, he wants to leave and return as a dashing suitor, so he watches from afar as things slot into a much more pleasing picture than before. With Yue Qingyuan’s broad shoulders propping him up, Shen Qingqiu finally gains the power to back up his words and a genuine confidence to match his proud bearing. He kicks all his detractors off Qing Jing and calls an audit from An Ding to clean up all the leftover filth before the new hallmasters take their post. Yue Qingyuan shuts down a nasty comment during a peak lord meeting about Shen Qingqiu’s brothel visits by reminding everyone that they are allowed to visit their family outside the sect if they want to, and this is everything the sect gossip talks about for the next sennight. It prompts Ning Yingying to bashfully admit to her trusted Luo shidi that her mother is one of Shen Qingqiu’s 'sisters', that she joined the sect on his recommendation. Maybe A-Luo would like to meet her sometime? He’s like a little brother to Yingying and she wants him to meet her family.

Not everything is perfect, of course. Qing Jing is still heavy on the physical punishment, second only to Bai Zhan, because the fear of pain works extremely well on the rich brats, but Binghe’s growing restlessness sees him punished more than all the disciples put together and on him it has a very different effect. He can’t help it, his libido is out of control and the people he wants are out of his reach, so the only things he can channel his restless energy is aggression and too long nights of masturbation that leave him too tired to function the following day. At one point Shen Qingqiu even threatens him with the whip again if he doesn’t cut it out, and the thought of Shen Qingqiu whipping him bloody fuels his fantasies for the next several weeks.

It’s three months before the Immortal Alliance Conference when Meng Mo digs his heels in about the course of their future.

“We are not getting Xin Mo.”

“I need it if I want to become strong again.”

“I reviewed all of your memories and I can confidently say that’s not true. The wretched thing hurt you more than it ever helped.”

“I will never get out of the abyss without it. I need it for that long and then I will lock it away.”

“If you pick it up you will never be able to put it down again. Just like in that other life.”

“Then what do you suggest? Am I to just stay in the abyss and perish?!”

“No, of course not. Ask Xiao Mobei to teach you his portal trick.”

“... Let’s start with the obvious that it would not work and let’s not go into the logistics of how I’m even supposed to get hold of him.”

“You have actively used Xin Mo for fifteen centuries.” Was it really that long? It didn’t feel that long. “You have absorbed enough of its residual energy that with the right teacher you should be capable of learning portal manipulation. Whether the Mobei boy is willing to teach you or not is another matter.”

“We were friends before I went insane.” Before he merged the realms and accidentally destroyed Mobei’s entire kingdom and all his subjects in the process. “I think I have a way to convince him.”

Thus starts the long chase to get into Shang Qinghua’s house so Binghe can talk to him in private. It’s much easier said than done. Much as Qinghua has made his peak self-sustaining, he is still busy as hell and when he's not then he's in his leisure house which is the most well-warded building in the entire sect. They only manage a meeting with two weeks left to go before the conference.

At least convincing Shang Qinghua is easy enough. “I recently found out that I'm part demon and I want your prince to help me get away after the conference” is a clear motivation why Binghe would want to talk to Mobei and “I can see from your bruises that he's trying to court you - very carefully, by his standards, I don't see any frostbite - I can make him understand that you are not interested or how to do it the human way, whichever you prefer” makes Qinghua’s expression twist into something both calculating and flustered. The wonders a millennia lived as mostly a demon does, Binghe muses. He was too young and too human to realize that Mobei was pining hard for his little snake of an advisor the first time around. He's not surprised when it all turns into a Human Courting Dos and Don’ts 101. He's not sure if Qinghua is really interested or he's just too scared to turn Mobei down, but when he comes to finalize the details of his getaway the leisure house stinks to the high heavens of happy ice demon, so it's working at least.

He talks Mobei down from letting his entire menagerie loose on the disciples (Qinghua breathes a sigh of relief. He might be able to keep his position as a spy and not lose all his enrolled disciples after all) and shows him where to send the most dangerous beasts for a more targeted attack against Huan Hua’s adult cultivators. Binghe doesn't much care about the disciples, but the least amount of damage done against the sect, the more likely Shen Qingqiu will take him back soon once he returns.

The night before the Conference he finally visits Shen Qingqiu in his dream to show the man his true self. “I told you that I'm a demon.” In the dream Qingqiu is scrawnier and not quite the perfectly polished image of a peerless immortal. Binghe revels in tracing his eyes over all the scars he can see that have been long erased from his skin in the waking world. “I need to leave for a time, after the conference. But do not fret. When I return I will be Junshang and lay the demon world in front of you and Sect Leader Yue as a courting gift.”

He keeps Shen Qingqiu in the dream long enough that his Shizun can't talk to him in person before the event begins. It would spoil the fun to have a fight with his future intended before the hunt.

This plan, unlike the demon invasion one, goes off without a hitch. When Qinghua is portaled into Mobei’s palace a week later for one last report before Binghe leaves, the man has only good news - the sect only suffered injuries and no deaths, and as an added bonus the Iceclaw Assassin Wolf they dropped into the Huan Hua ranks took out the Old Palace Master and his most trusted people before it self destructed. It’s a better outcome than he dared to hope for.

Mobei refuses to teach him portals (for now) but gives him a token that can portal him out of the abyss if things get dicey or Binghe is done training, so that's fine as well. All is ready. Binghe is going to go into the abyss and then seven years later he’ll come back out, fully in control of his heavenly demon heritage and as much of a beast in body as he is in spirit.

The Northern Consort greets him coldly, glaring at him from under a huadian painted with Mobei Jun’s blood that leaves no doubt in anybody’s mind about the king’s devotion to his little human husband. “What took you so long?” Shang Qinghua asks, unwinding one of his many layers of fur and dropping it on the shivering Binghe. The pelt barely covers his shoulders, but it warms Binghe all the same. “Zhangmen-shixiong has been hounding me day and night about your return. Shen Qingqiu refuses to hold their wedding without you there.”

“Ah, but Shang shishu.” Binghe spreads his arms wide, showing off his new physique with a grin. “I promised to lay the demon world before their feet. I couldn’t possibly return before I was capable of upholding that promise!”

Consort Shang is unimpressed.

“Next time, just get them a stick of tanghulu to share. Much easier to get and I bet you anything they would appreciate it more.”

He might not be wrong about that. What is the demon world to a pair of slave boys who rose to the top of the cultivation world on their own power? Comfort food made by his own hand is a much sweeter gift.

Binghe is still going to conquer the demon world for them regardless. He promised, after all, and what kind of husband would he be if he went back on his promises?

#svsss #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #bingqijiu #tc writes #if I ever find the energy to write all these fics it will be all over for you #Bingge is a bit removed from his grudge against SQQ bc it happened so long ago #but in exchange he can be a feral beast in human skin #as a treat #there was no good spot to fit it in there but Bingge also forgot how to cook #he had to have turned into a literal abyss monster for the others to finally decide to put him down and it did no favor to his tastes #poor Yingying had to experience a lot of undercooked or questionably seasoned meals during their friendship #also please imagine YQY going through a few less palatable iterations during his time in the cave #before he remembered that he was supposed to be a boy and was let out #locked in the dark trying to remember that he's not a sword or a beast that's all hunger and sharp edges #his shizun kept him in there until he stopped roaring and screeching and started screaming like a proper human should #I like my Yue Qi with Hidden Layers and at least half of those are also very feral #they conflict nicely with how much of an enabling wet blanket he is #and I say that with all the fondness in the world #I like Yue Qi I want to give him headpats and lock him in a room with Xiao Jiu until they sort their shit out

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